


Losing Sleep

by Texan_Red_Rose



Category: RWBY
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Original Character(s), Romance, Slice of Life, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-15 23:11:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 33,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13041471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Texan_Red_Rose/pseuds/Texan_Red_Rose
Summary: There are many reasons and ways to lose sleep. These are only a few.





	1. Parts 1-6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A collection of vignettes.

Part I

Yang sighed, rolling over for the umpteenth time and tangling the sheets around her legs, kicking them free and flopping onto her back. She couldn’t get comfortable, couldn’t fall asleep, couldn’t even pretend like she was the slightest bit tired, her body still thrumming with energy from the day. 

“Yang.” Her roommate drawled, sounding distinctly annoyed. “Go to bed." 

"I can help it, Blakey!” She spoke in a quiet voice but even then it carried, excitement breaking the still of the night. “How can you sleep after a day like today?" 

"We went to an all day concert; I’m exhausted.” The sound of shuffling sheets filled the dorm room. “How are you still this wired?" 

"I’m just… ya know… happy!” She smiled wide at the ceiling a few inches from her face. Opting to stack their beds to give themselves more space worked wonders but it did make sitting up hazardous to her health. “You think Weiss would be down for another music festival? I’m sure there’s another one-" 

"Ah, so that’s it.” Blake chuckled, kicking at the bottom of her roommate’s bunk. “Looking forward to seeing her sister again?" 

"Ah, I- I mean- okay, yeah! Totally!” She chuckled, though it sounded more like a bubbly giggle, not that she could even think to be ashamed of the sound. “I mean, she’s home for a while, yeah? So, maybe we should all hang out again." 

"I can’t believe you’re keeping me awake to gush about your crush on my girlfriend’s sister." 

"C'mon, Blakey, how about you do me a solid?” She leaned over the side of the bed, looking down at the narrowed yet brightly shining amber eyes of her friend. “What’s the way into the heart of a Schnee? Spill your secrets, oh wise one." 

"Could you not?” Blake pulled the covers over her head. “Go to bed!" 

Laughing again, Yang rolled onto her back and stared up, a dumb, goofy grin on her lips. 

* * *

Part II

Winter sighed, looking down at the paperwork spread across her desk. It could hardly be called a desk, really- just a piece of plywood propped up by cinder blocks stacked on top of each other with no chair- but it was the best they could do given the circumstances. She should’ve been using the time to rest, having returned from a mission hardly four hours ago, but sleep wouldn’t come until she’d hammered out the details for the next two months, and doing so by hand took time she wouldn’t have otherwise. Sacrificing a few hours of sleep seemed a trivial price to pay. 

"Schnee? What are you doing?” General Ironwood’s voice snatched her attention away as he brushed into the room, the thin door slapping shut behind him. The shack, as they called it- because it could hardly be considered anything more- wouldn’t survive a direct attack, but they had the phalanx system to protect them from mortars and needed the additional space protected from the turbulent winds that swept across their little patch of land. Although operations in the area had veered close to all out war, they’d maintained an unsteady truce with the local fighting force. How long that truce would last lingered in the back of every mind, but they tried to not let it show. "Shouldn’t you be in your bunk?“

"I was working on the matrix, Sir,” she replied, straightening up and doing her best not to cringe. “I haven’t been at it very long and I-" 

"You must think me stupid or yourself especially clever.” He stepped around the desk, setting his helmet atop a nearby gear stand, the dull thunk of against the wood almost as loud as his boots. When he stood beside her, he sighed heavily. “You’ve been at this for hours. It’s not your responsibility." 

"Until the Commander returns, no one else is doing it, Sir.” She made a gesture around them, indicating the small base they occupied. “These soldiers deserve rest." 

"I agree but so do you.” He tapped his fingers against the paper. “You’ve yet to take your leave." 

"I deferred so others could take theirs first." 

"Noble.” The General chuckled, plucking a folded, lined paper from amid the official documents and calendars, flight itineraries and troop strength charts. Immediately, Winter felt her shoulders jump. “What’s this?" 

"A… personal letter, Sir,” she replied honestly. The edges were crumpled and dirty from being folded and unfolded several times, the paper itself starting to turn yellow from constant exposure to sun and sand. “From a friend of my sister’s.”

He looked at the paper and raised a brow. “A friend?” When she didn’t respond, he chuckled. “Very well. And what does this specific letter have to do with leave dates?" 

"She… suggested weeks I might return- activities coming up that Weiss would be attending." 

"And her as well, I take it?” She nodded. “What’s her name?" 

"Yang.” She couldn’t help but smile, immediately remembering bright lilac eyes and a wide smile, an uplifting laugh and an adorable blush. “Yang Xiao Long." 

"Hmmm, I see.” The General opened the letter briefly, scanning the lines before folding it up and returning it to her. “You should invite her to the redeployment ceremony once we get out of this hell hole. For now, I’m ordering you to return to your CHU for eight hours, minimum. I’ll attend to the matrix personally." 

"But, Sir-" 

"Don’t question my orders, Specialist.” He clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Everyone deserves some time off and even a General can do the dirty work sometimes." 

"Thank you, Sir.” She snapped off a quick salute before hurrying away, at once thankful for having the burden taken from her and slightly concerned by it. While she didn’t expect for the man overseeing their operations to be untoward regarding the information, she did try rather hard to keep her personal life separate from her military one. As she glanced down at the letter, though, she had to admit that they would sometimes intersect. 

Once she returned to her cramped little housing unit, Winter dug out the other letters- some from Weiss, one from her mother, and a veritable mountain from Yang- and read through them again, falling asleep with the latest from the blonde still clutched in her hand. 

* * *

Part III

Yang picked up her scroll, then set it down. Picked it up again, pulled it open, then closed it, and set it down. Again and again as she grappled with her own thought process, biting her lip as excitement and apprehension warred within her. 

After months of quite nearly asking for the woman’s number and failing to put the words together, Yang had the string of digits that would put her in touch with the woman at the drop of the hat. Now… she just had to work up the gumption to actually text her. 

 "It’s not hard,“ she said, thankful Blake had opted to ‘spend the night’ with Weiss and leaving her alone to her freakout. Then again, some moral support and advice would be really right about now. "Just say 'hey’ or 'did you enjoy the food festival?’ or… something." 

Nothing appeared in the empty text. Yang sighed, closing the scroll and setting it beside her pillow, running both hands through her hair. She was working herself up. Worst came to worst, she wouldn’t get an answer at all and would have to accept that the woman only interacted with her out of polite compulsion. Not that big a deal and shouldn’t she find that out now as opposed to later? A full year had already passed since her little crush started and she would be graduating soon. 

Better to get it over now, right? Right. 

New resolve steeling her nerves, Yang snatched up her scroll and tapped out a quick message, sending it off with a sigh of relief. 

'Hey, it was great hanging out with you today! If you ever need a tour guide, let me know!' 

And then, she saw the time stamp. 

"It’s  _how_  late?” She hurriedly jumped down from her bed- knocking her head against the ceiling in the process- and checked her laptop, her watch, Blake’s watch, and her homepage, all of which confirmed she’d just texted her crush at two o'clock in the morning  _after parting ways at ten_.

“I’m an idiot,” she said, passing a hand over her face as she slumped to the ground, leaning back against Blake’s bunk. “I didn’t even start and I-" 

The chime of her scroll pulled her attention away. Cringing, she reached for the device and flicked it open, hardly cracking open a single eye to read the response. 

'Thank you for the offer; I’m quite inclined to take you up in that. You mentioned something about a traditional Mistrali restaurant down by the docks and I’d be very interested in finding it.' 

Okay, that was either a very polite response to make it seem like she hadn’t just woken the woman up at some ungodly hour or… genuine interest. 

'Oh yeah? It’s pretty great! They have a nice buffet on Saturdays.’   
'Perhaps we should go then, if you don’t have any classes.' 

Yang’s breath caught in her throat. 

'Weiss has class that day.’   
'I’m well aware.' 

Oh shit. 

 _Oh_  shit. 

Was this a date? It sounded like a date. 

But maybe it wasn’t a date? 

"What do I do?” She looked around the room, contemplating calling Blake’s scroll but setting that thought aside immediately. She’d rather not get another earful from her best friend and roommate. Finally, she settled on calling the one person who would always have her back. 

“Yang?” Ruby’s voice drawled, thick from sleep. “What time is it?" 

"Help me, sis. Winter just asked me on a date and I don’t know if it _is_ a date or not." 

”… why don’t you ask her?“ Her sister’s tone shifted from tired to confused. 

"Wouldn’t that be really lame, though?” Yang winced. “I don’t want to come off as some sort of novice." 

"But you… kinda are?” Ruby chuckled, hovering between drifting back asleep and waking fully. “You’ve had less partners than I have, and they always asked  _you_. Winter seems like the type to be more formal, though, so maybe you’re just not used to that? Either way, making sure you’re both on the same page isn’t a  _bad_  thing." 

"You’re not exactly helping, sis.” She ran a hand through her hair.

“I’m helping you out a lot, actually, because Winter’s the sort person to not be ambiguous unless  _someone_  is sending mixed signals." 

"Are you saying this is  _my_  fault?” Yang pulled away her scroll, frowning at the device before putting it back to her ear. 

“No, I’m saying you hug everyone you meet, you invade personal space all the time, and you’re the sort of person who loves everyone, which can be really hard to understand for someone who came from  _that_  family." 

”… okay, that’s a good point.“ She still vividly remembered the first time she’d pulled Weiss into a hug, how the smaller woman has stiffened and squeaked, looking to Blake in a pleading manner. "So… I should just be like 'is this a date’?" 

"C'mon, Yang, it’s still you.” Ruby giggled. “Do it  _your_  way." 

"Yeah… okay, that’s a good idea.” She smiled. “Thanks, sis." 

"Great! Can I go back to bed now?" 

 "Oh, right. Sorry! Night Rubes!” After she’d hung up, she opened her messages again, breathing in deep and releasing it slowly. 

'That sounds great! We should go right around noon; they get busy, but I know the waitresses. They’ll take care of us.' 

Yang licked her lips, waiting for a response. 

'Are you certain? If this Saturday doesn’t work, I’m sure we can schedule it for another time.’   
'No, this sat works great!’   
'I wouldn’t want to force your hand. It appeared like you hesitated.' 

Yang smirked. 

'Sorry, I got distracted! Dates make me a little nervous. ;)' 

She waited, hoping she hadn’t read the whole thing wrong. At least this way, she could save a little face- make a joke about Mistrali dates being a standard appetizer that she’s not fond of or something, seeing as all manner of puns flew from her mind when she needed them most. 

'In that case, I’ll be sure to put you at ease. I rather enjoy your company and I hope you can enjoy mine so we can have a pleasant lunch date.’

She let out a little squeal, clapping a hand over her mouth out of habit. It took her a moment to stop dancing in place, tapping out a quick reply while smiling wide. 

'Can’t wait!’

* * *

Part IV

Winter tossed and turned, drawing the thin sheet tighter around her and tossing it off in turn. She couldn’t get comfortable and the thoughts swirling in her head made her even more sick. 

Giving up on the idea of sleeping, she cracked her eyes open and glanced at the clock atop the regulation three chest drawer beside her bed. In half an hour, she would need to start getting ready, and she hadn’t slept a wink all night, but the lack of sleep didn’t trouble her nearly as much as the cause. 

Sitting up, she reached for her scroll, pulling it open and wincing at the smiling faces looking back at her. Taken during her last bout of leave at one of the parks by Beacon, Yang absolutely shining with joy in her graduation cap and gown. Winter stood beside her, an arm around the woman’s shoulders, smiling with pride and happiness in her dress uniform- something her sister insisted upon and, frankly, she was happy she took the suggestion to heart. Her girlfriend certainly appreciated the crisp lines of her uniform and made sure it was known. 

Winter tapped on the message icon, then tapped on Yang’s name, bringing up the end of a cheery conversation from two days ago.

Her thumbs hesitated. Sleeping would be impossible but reaching out… 

'Are you awake?' 

She shouldn’t have done that. 

Winter cursed quietly, tossing her scroll down and laying back, face in her hands. The impulse was impossible to resist yet she knew better, had enough self awareness to realize how grievous her misdeed and acknowledge that she shouldn’t push, shouldn’t pry. Yet, neither could she remain idle and aloof. She’d made this mess; she needed to clean it up. 

Winter sighed. “How do I fix this?" 

The ringing of her scroll had her sitting bolt upright, a shock of dread and hope shooting through her chest at the name displayed on the screen. She quickly picked it up, putting it to her ear. 

"Yang, I-”

“Stop,” her girlfriend said, the hard edge of her voice wavering, as if she was on the verge of tears. "First off, it’s two in the morning where I am, so it’s gotta be, like, four where you are. It’s the middle of the damn night. Secondly… okay, yeah, I  _am_  awake, but that doesn’t mean you can text me. I… I don’t want to talk to you right now.“ 

Winter closed her eyes and pressed her lips into a thin line. "I understand. I’m sorry." 

"It’s… fine. Like. I was awake anyway." 

"I meant about everything. Contacting you in the middle of the night, against your wishes, making a decision without consulting you-" 

"That’s not what this is about,” Yang said, sighing. “I mean… it kinda is, but not really- it’s your career and you have to do what’s best and I don’t really _get_ it, but- but springing this on me last minute like you expect me to just go along with it… that’s not fair." 

"You’re right,” she replied, running a hand through her hair. “I was so excited that I didn’t stop to think. I’m sorry, Yang, truly.” The silence that met her tore at her heart. “I shouldn’t have expected you to come with me to Atlas. Getting stationed there might be something I’ve always wanted but expecting you to be equally enthused about leaving your home was wrong of me.” Her expression twisted. “Getting upset about a lack of reaction… I’ve done so much wrong in the past twenty four hours, Sundrop, and I am  _so_  sorry.”

For a moment, she considered ending the call. She owed Yang that much, respected her that much, but some selfish part of her clung to the hope that she could be forgiven. 

“It’s… it’s not like I would’ve said  _no_.” The woman mumbled, the shifting of cloth coming across the line. “I just- I’ve been off at college for four years. I just get back home and you tell me we’re moving to Atlas- it caught me off guard! And I get that it’s home for you, but it’s not for me and I… I’m not saying yes… but I’m not saying no. Not right now. I just need time to think." 

"Take all the time that you need.” Winter squeezed her eyes tight, fighting back tears. “And I can always fly you over. It would be nice to have a friend come visit." 

She held her breath in the silence that followed. 

"What about having a girlfriend come visit?" 

Her lips curled into a small smile- a fragile thing. "Well, yes, that would be ideal." 

"I thought ideal would be both of us living there?" 

"Ideal is whatever keeps us  _together_ \- regardless if that’s physically or not,” she said, and she meant every word. “I’ll take a thousand miles between us over a final goodbye." 

She heard a sigh- but a relieved one. "I was honestly thinking of taking a year off to help dad around the house, make sure Ruby’s settled into her new job. That sort of thing." 

"Of course- you should absolutely do that. Your family is important to you,” Winter said, daring to hope that this could be the beginning to mending their bond. 

“You’re important to me, too,” Yang replied, the frown on her lips audible. 

“And I’ll be here for you, if and when you’re ready.” She hesitated, unsure how it would be received. “I love you, Sundrop." 

"I love you, too, Snowdrift.” A smile spread across her lips, recognizing the hopelessly enamored way her girlfriend always uttered the nickname. “But I’m serious about giving me some warning before dropping something like this on me." 

"I swear, I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Alright. I believe you.” Yang chuckled. “Don’t let me down, okay?" 

"Okay." 

Silence stretched between them, silent tears slipping down her cheeks as waves of relief crashed over her. Finally, her girlfriend broke the silence. 

"I can’t believe you woke up early to pay me back for the middle-of-the-night texts." 

"Well.” She winced. “You’re worth waking up early for." 

”… you haven’t slept yet, have you?“ 

"Not a wink." 

Yang sighed, though it sounded like a smile tugged at her lips. ” _Call me_  when you get home tonight. I wanna make sure you go to bed. And be careful today-  _no_  driving if you can help it.“ 

Half a hundred warnings and advice followed, even as Winter got up and prepared for the day. She weathered each with a smile, too happy to hear them to be even a little offended by the chiding.

* * *

Part V

Yang fell back on the bed, breathing heavy and sweat lightly covering her brow. She glanced at the clock on the drawer stand beside the bed, smirking with pride. Eleven at night when they’d entered the bedroom at seven- that had to be a record of some sort. 

Beside her, Winter weakly rolled onto her back, hissing as the pillow hit her shoulder. 

"I don’t recall you being this rough last time,” the soldier said, a thickness to her voice that spoke of bone deep weariness and satisfaction. “Did you draw blood?" 

Lilac eyes fell on the bright red mark she’d left that last time, high on Winter’s shoulder and standing out on her pale skin. "I’ve missed you. I’m guessing it’s not really your thing?" 

Blue eyes lit up, the opportunity seized upon instantly. "It’s not something I’ve tried before but it certainly left  _an impression_." 

Yang laughed, rolling into her side and scooting closer, drawing her girlfriend into a happy, sweet little series of kisses that brought giggles to their lips. "I’ve taught you well." 

"My sister would disagree,” the woman replied, stretching out and groaning. “I’ll sleep well tonight. I just hope I wake up on time." 

"Sorry, Snowdrift.” She chuckled, wrapping an arm around Winter’s waist. “I missed you and we have plenty of reasons to celebrate, right?" 

Yang glanced around the room, noting the slightly hectic mishmash of military gear, suitcases, clothes, and nicknacks from the both of them scattered across every flat surface. They’d gotten hardly as far as unpacking the few bags she’d brought from Vale before getting sidetracked, first by food and then by each other. Realizing she hadn’t received an answer, she looked back and bit down on the impulse to laugh. Winter’s eyes were heavily lidded and her breathing deep, on the verge of falling into a deep sleep.

Rather than rousing the woman, Yang settled down beside her, not minding the low light they’d left on in the corner and ready to fall asleep by her girlfriend for the first time in far too long. The sporadic visits over the past year were good, but knowing that this was a more permanent arrangement- not bartering with an unforgiving clock for a few more minutes with each other- put a giddy smile on her lips. 

While she’d never say she regretted her decision to stay home following her graduation, she certainly felt antsy the last few months, itching for the day to come when she’d board the ship for Atlas, because while video calls were good and all, they would never compare to them being together. 

However, before she could slip away to dreamland, the ringing of a scroll had Winter jolting awake, almost vaulting across her to reach the damn thing sitting beside the clock. Not that Yang minded much, of course, but it didn’t startle her to suddenly be bowled over by her girlfriend and effectively used as a pillow. 

"Specialist Schnee,” she said in that crisp tone that denoted a superior rather than a subordinate, eyes widening briefly before her expression fell. “Yes, Sir, I can do that. One moment.” She set the scroll down and tapped a finger against the screen, throwing a look that clearly read 'be quiet’ as she exited the bed and pulled Yang’s shirt on before padding towards the desk. After some shuffling of papers and moving a stack of Yang’s shorts they’d yet to put away, Winter seemed to find exactly what she sought. “You said the authorization code, correct, Sir?" 

"Yes, and I’m prepared to copy.” A smooth baritone came from the speaker. 

“Whiskey seven delta four romeo two, dash alpha one." 

"Got it. Thank you, Schnee.” He paused, a few clicks and scratches coming over the line as Winter crossed the room. “Ah, there it is. Perfect.”

“I’m happy to be of assistance, Sir.” Her girlfriend came back to the bed, sitting at the edge and not objecting when Yang wrapped her arms around the woman’s waist from behind. “Anything else I can do for you, Sir?" 

"One other thing- your girlfriend arrived in Atlas today, correct?" 

Yang raised a brow; she didn’t expect to be the woman’s secret by any means but neither did she peg Winter as being the sort to gush about her significant other at work. 

However, now confronted with the posed question and the subtle blush creeping up her girlfriend’s neck, perhaps she’d been wrong and she had to bury her face in the woman’s shoulder to keep from laughing. 

"Y-yes, Sir. She’s right here, as a matter of fact." 

"Good evening, Sir,” she said, a sneaking suspicion the voice belonged to none other than General Ironwood, the top military official in Atlas and one of a very short list of people Winter respected above all others. 

“Good evening, Miss Xiao Long. Allow me to say it’s an honor to put a voice to the name and pictures." 

"I can say the same, General Ironwood.” She pressed a kiss to Winter’s shoulder. “She speaks very highly of you." 

"Believe me, she speaks rather well of you, too.” He chuckled and Yang couldn’t help but smile at how her girlfriend sat a little straighter, conveying an unspoken 'of course I do’ that dripped with pride and affection. “Now, consider this your official welcome to our home country. Specialist Schnee, I will check in with you as needed but you’re on leave for the next, hmmm, week, let’s say? To ensure you’ve both settled in nicely and Miss Xiao Long’s been given a proper tour of the area." 

"Really?" 

"But Sir-" 

"Come now, Schnee, you’ve been ahead on all your projects, and with that last bit of work taken care of, I can handle the rest.” The General chuckled. “You’ve earned some time off." 

"I…” Winter sighed. “Thank you, Sir." 

"Think nothing of it.” He paused. “And Miss Xiao Long?" 

"Yes, Sir?" 

"Don’t break my Specialist.”

With a wide smile on her lips, she laughed. “I’ll do my best!" 

"Excellent. I’ll see you in a week, Schnee, and keep your scroll close just in case." 

After Winter ended the call, she leaned back and turned her head to press a kiss to Yang’s jaw. "I suppose this means we’ll get a good night’s rest." 

"Hmmm, will we?” She smirked, lightly nipping at the mark she’d left and allowing her hands to roam. “I think we’ve got some energy left." 

Her girlfriend laughed, turning around and pushing her back onto the bed, no sign of an objection on her lips. Instead, she loomed over Yang for a brief moment. "I love you, Sundrop." 

"I love you too, Snowdrift,” she replied, lips curling into a devilish grin. “Now, c'mon. Let’s practice making babies." 

"I think you’re skipping a step.” Blue eyes flashed with something- an idea, perhaps, or the beginnings of one- before she leaned down and connected their lips in a sweet kiss. “But I suppose this is more entertaining to practice." 

"I dunno. I guess I could start calling myself Missus Schnee,” she said, as if she hadn’t tried out the introduction before. Winter’s thoughtful expression gave her pause, though. 

“What about Missus Xiao Long-Schnee?" 

"What about Missus Schnee-Xiao Long?” Yang raised a brow. “Or, Missus Schlong." 

After a brief pause, they both burst out laughing, with one giving a not-so-resolute 'no’ and the other offering terrible arguments in favor of it. In the end, they finally fell asleep around two, the lighthearted debate as to their hypothetical married name abandoned for the moment as they lost themselves to each other again and again. 

Tomorrow, they could get their shared living space into some semblance of order while working out sore muscles. Tonight, they curled around each other, allowing their dreams to lead them into the realm of possibilities.

* * *

Part VI  

Winter paced the full length of the suite, a combination of nerves and excitement forcing her into motion. She couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t entertain the thought, really, and who could blame her? With the festivities planned for tomorrow, the idea of trying to sleep until morning just seemed preposterous, especially considering she would be in the massive queen sized bed alone. Really, her room had every comfort a person could imagine, but it felt like a prison cell. She wouldn’t stand for this. 

With a grumble, she turned for the door, opening it softly and creeping out into the hall. Given the late hour, no one seemed to be stirring, and Winter utilized every ounce of training she’d received over the years to tiptoe down the hall. She couldn’t be sure of the exact room but that didn’t matter; she could feel a pull deep down in her soul leading her one way and, where a few short years ago she would’ve believed it entirely impossible, somehow she knew it would lead her to her goal. The moment she turned the first corner, though, she found her mission brought to an unexpected halt. 

"Good evening, Winter,” Blake said, a curl to her lips as she leaned against the wall. “Going somewhere?" 

She thought quickly, latching onto a plausible excuse. "I was just-" 

"Looking for Yang.” One brow arced as amusement danced in amber eyes. “It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding, you know." 

"It’s a foolish old tradition and nothing more,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“But it’s one Yang takes to heart.” Blake frowned at her then. “You know that, right?" 

"I do.” Winter looked away, sighing. “But this is ridiculous. Being separated a whole week?" 

"I’m not a fan of it either.” The cat ears atop her head drooped as she rubbed at her arm. “And knowing Weiss is somewhere in this mansion but not knowing where… I get it. But ever since Yang brought it up, Weiss was firmly on her side, so what can we do?”

“Kiss some sense into them?” Being with Yang for years had imbued her with the peculiar habit of countering serious questions with jokes and they both laughed. Although she didn’t know Blake as well, she’d learned enough about the Faunus to feel more than comfortable with her impending union to Weiss. Having a sister-in-law like her definitely didn’t seem like a bad outcome of their admittedly disastrous attempts at finding romantic partners- though Weiss probably got the shorter end of the stick. “Of course, that just brings to light what  _you_ are doing out and about." 

"The same thing as you, honestly.” Blake tilted her head to lean it against the wall. “I want to respect her wishes… but I miss her. Being in the same location for a full week without seeing each other… it feels a little extreme.” Amber eyes flicked her way. “It must be driving you crazy, all things considered." 

"You’re not wrong,” she said, turning to lean back against the wall beside her future sister-in-law. “I’ve spent long enough in the military, never quite sure of when I’ll see her again… being so close and yet so far is especially vexing." 

"It’ll be worth it, tomorrow.” They both smiled as a blush came to the Faunus’ cheeks. “I mean, it’s just a few hours away, now." 

"It is indeed.” Blake had a point. Perhaps sleeping to pass the time would be a better option than sneaking around the mansion at such an ungodly hour. “I suppose we should retire." 

"Yeah.” She pushed off the wall and turned, not making a sound in the effortless way that came to naturally to her. “Good night, Winter." 

"Good night, Sister,” she replied, smiling when Blake immediately looked back, ears perked as she blinked, and then a soft smile coming to her face. Of all the things she could be proud of her sister for, her impending union topped the list.

She made her way back to her room, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it. It still chaffed at her but Blake had a point; this separation was Yang’s idea and she should abide by it. 

But before she could begin changing for bed- a testament to her restlessness that she hadn’t even tried going to bed yet- a soft knock came at the door. Probably her future sister-in-law, or perhaps Weiss herself looking for last minute guidance, and she nearly opened it straight away expect… whoever had knocked seemed to be holding it firmly shut.

“Snowdrift?" 

Winter’s brows rose, pressing against the door. "Sundrop?” A smile came to her lips as her heart swelled. “What are you doing?" 

"Well, I just- I missed you and that tradition only applies to  _seeing_  the bride before the wedding, right?” She both heard and felt the soft thud of her fiance’s shoulder slumping against the door. “Look, I didn’t realize how rough it would be, going a whole week without seeing you but knowing you’re somewhere in this house. It’s different when you’re away on mission…" 

"I know. I’ve felt the same.” She sighed, leaning her forehead against the wood. “Being separated by distance is much easier than by some invisible barrier.” She paused, biting her lip. “But I wonder, now… what if I left the service?" 

Yang laughed, the sound still clear and bright despite the door between them. "Aw, come on, Snowdrift. Now you’re talking crazy." 

"I am not. It’s a serious consideration.” She frowned, looking at her military dress uniform hanging by the dresser, the medals and buttons gleaming in the low light. “I’d rather not go through something like this again." 

"We can’t be with each other every minute of every day,” she said with a chuckle. “But, hey, don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered! Still. You love the military. And you love me. We’re gonna have to share you.”

“But you know I’d leave it in a heartbeat for you, don’t you?” She wanted to reach through the solid wood and touch her fiance, let her see the conviction in her eyes. “I love you." 

"I do. And I love you,  _so much_ , but this is the tradeoff. We both have our lives to live- together, yeah, but it’s still the two of us. You’re the military woman." 

"And you’re the teacher,” she said, still so very proud that Yang’s Remnant certification had come through. So very few people could achieve that but of course her love did; there existed no trial she couldn’t overcome through sheer determination. 

They continued talking, quietly, both sliding down to sit against the door. For a few hours it went on, until they finally couldn’t resist the call for bed. They still had a busy day to follow. After they bid each other good night, Winter changed and crawled into bed, still disliking the absence of her lover, her fiance, her whole world beside her, but feeling the warmth of her love burning bright in her chest. 

It helped sleep come a little easier but she longed for the following night, when they could curl up together in a hotel on the Mistral seaside, salt in the air and the room filled with love.


	2. Parts 7-12

Part VII  

Yang’s eyes shot open as a cry split the night, attempting to roll away from the warm embrace of her wife before strong arms pulled her back in, much to her protest. “Snowdrift-”

“It’s my turn,” Winter replied firmly, rubbing at the sleep in her eyes as she sat up, the wailing from down the hall pushing her to fully alert. “Stay in bed. I’ll attend to her.”

She watched as the woman got out of bed, grabbing a robe they kept at the ready just for situations like these. Winter had returned the day before from an arduous mission in the remote Atlesian north, bereft of the most basic comforts, so Yang had reacted to their child’s cry without a second thought.

“Are you sure?” She fidgeted with the sheet, pulling it up to cover her chest. Her breasts ached a bit, already almost full again despite her using the pump just before bed, and she felt a maternal twinge as the cries continued. “You need your sleep-”

“What I  _need_  is to spend some quality time with our daughter.” Winter smiled softly, pride evident in her eyes. The past two months away had worn on her, as evidenced by the enthusiasm with which they’d celebrated her return- though gently, considering Yang still hadn’t fully recovered. Her wife had taken up every duty pertaining to their daughter since she returned, so she really shouldn’t be surprised. “Stay in bed and rest. I’ll warm up a bottle from the fridge.”

Reluctantly, Yang settled back into the sheets- relieved, to some extent, because caring for a four month old alone seemed so much easier in theory- but sleep eluded her as Winter slipped out of the room and down the hall. Zephyr’s cries calmed some and receded as she was carried downstairs to await a warm bottle, which should’ve eased the new mother, but relief turned to restlessness. With her wife and baby not in the room, she found it difficult to remain there herself, tossing and turning as she tried to get comfortable.

Eventually, she conceded the fight and got out of bed, pulling an oversized t shirt over her head and a pair of panties up her legs before leaving the room. It didn’t take her long to find the two loves of her life. Winter sat in the rocking chair in their nursery- a room she’d hardly used while the woman was away- with their child swaddled in blankets, holding a bottle as Zephyr drank.

“She’s gotten so big,” her wife said, tone filled with wonder. “She has your eyes.”

“Last I checked, mine aren’t blue,” she replied with a smile, entering the room.

“I don’t mean the color.” Her expression softened. “They shine like yours.”

Yang didn’t see it. Perhaps in the chubby curve of her cheeks, but the blue eyes and wisps of white hair were trademark Schnee genetics showing strongly. In her mind’s eye, she saw Zephyr fully grown- a spitting image of Winter, but with wider shoulders and hips, a bright smile and an uplifting laugh.

“She’s beautiful,” she said, crossing the room and carefully sitting in her wife’s lap, the two readjusting until they were comfortably fit in the chair with their daughter between them, still wholly concerned with her meal.

“She truly is,” Winter replied, looking at her and smiling. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She chuckled softly, tracing a finger along Zephyr’s cheek. “Who do you think she’ll be when she grows up?” Yang used to not concern herself with the future too much. It would come in time; no reason to stress over it. But now…  _everything_  was different.

“Knowing her momma like I do…” Her wife flashed a smile her way before looking down at the babe. “She’ll grow into a strong woman with a heart big enough for the world. She’ll love freely… and she’ll get hurt, but she’ll pick herself off the ground and be all the stronger for it. She’ll make her mistakes- she’ll do foolish things, like all Schnees do, but the Xiao Long in her will find ways to overcome, to be a better person.” Then Winter paused, looking up at her with the most adoring expression Yang had ever seen- and she thought their wedding day could never be topped. “If I’m being honest, I’d be rather happy if she’s at least half the woman you are. Then, I think, we’ve done a good job.”

She shook her head, leaning down for a light kiss. “You’re not so bad yourself, you know.” Her gaze fell to their child, who seemed to be done with the bottle. It wasn’t quite empty, but close, and she seemed to be feeding purely because the milk was still there. “Can’t we keep her like this forever?”

“Come now- you want her grown, too.” Her wife chuckled, leaning her head into Yang’s shoulder. “You’ll teach her to ride a bike and play lacrosse. You’ll teach her to run and jump and play in the fall leaves, and you’ll talk to her about her crushes and pop bands and you’ll love every minute of it.”

“Just because you’re right doesn’t mean I have to like it.” She leaned her head against Winter’s. “When’s your next mission?”

“Not for another month at least.” A sigh slipped past her lips as she pulled the bottle away. “Are you certain staying in is a good idea?”

“Can you see yourself doing anything else?” Yang pressed a kiss to white hair- fuller, coarser than those atop their child’s head, but that would only last for so long. “Running around the woods being a hero and coming home to a loving wife and child. It’s not a bad gig.”

“There’s a time I believed that having a family waiting for me at home wouldn’t be an issue, but my thoughts have changed.” Winter shifted Zephyr, adjusting the burping rag as she gently patted their daughter’s back. “These long stretches away… I’m not sure if I can do them.”

“Long stretches? It was only two months.”

“ _This_  time. Had the mission come in a few months earlier, I would’ve missed her birth altogether.” Her wife shook her head. “I love my career, but I love you two more. I feel like I have to choose.”

Yang breathed in deep and let it out slowly. “Whatever choice you make, I’ll support you. Just know that I believe you can make it work. It doesn’t have to be either or.”

Winter looked down at their child but said nothing. They would likely have the conversation again, with clearer heads. But for the moment, they watched their baby girl drift into a peaceful slumber in adoring silence. 

* * *

Part VIII  

Winter jerked awake at the sensation of someone touching her shoulder. Normally, it would be the familiar touch of her wife, but she’d fallen into a fitful sleep in the woman’s absence as she usually did when she went to their bed alone. She’d nearly raised a hand in defense before snapping to her senses, two sets of wide eyes blinking at her in the moonlight.

“Zephyr? Zise?” She sat up a little, frowning at the little girls standing at her bedside. “What are you two doing out of bed?”

“Zise had a nightmare,” her eldest said, biting her lip softly. A habit she’d picked up from Yang and a sign she wanted to ask a question but didn’t know how, having reached the age where she was more mindful of the requests she made.

Her sister, however, lacked that concern. “When’s Momma comin’ home?”

“Next week,” she replied with a soft smile. It wasn’t often Yang was called away to supervise trips so she didn’t take it to heart, especially since she suspected exactly why they were looking for Momma. It remained one of their few disagreements, mainly because she could never imagine going to her parents’ bedside looking for comfort. It seemed… a ludicrous thought, though her wife assured her that letting their children sleep with them on occasion- to settle nightmares or ease loneliness- wasn’t a bad thing. “It’s just us until then.”

The wind outside howled, the patter of rain against the window starting soft before becoming much harder, a crash of thunder quickly following the flash of lightning- a sudden, summer storm that had both girls jumping where they stood. Were she her mother or father, she’d send them back to bed with a chiding remark about acting their age, but she’d grown so much since leaving that awful place. As rare as it remained, she perhaps had to concede the point to her wife.

“If you want, you two can sleep here tonight.” She scooted back a little and lifted the covers. “There’s plenty of room.” Without hesitation, both of her daughters clambered into bed, Zise first followed by her older sister. They shifted for a few minutes to get comfortable before settling down, though neither seemed particularly intent on sleeping as they watched Winter with wide, hopeful eyes. “Momma usually tells you a story to chase away the bad dreams, correct?”

“Yes, Mom,” the replied in unison, their voices soft but excited nonetheless.

“Very well. I believe I know just such a story.”

She then launched into a fanciful tale about a knight and a dragon, though it went much differently than the usual stories. Rather than locked in mortal combat, the knight found the dragon to be a rather endearing creature and became enamored with the beast. The two became companions and travelled the land, fighting bandits and brigands and all manner of terrible creatures, and eventually falling in love. When they wed, the whole kingdom turned out to celebrate their union.

“Did they have any babies?” Zise’s voice was soft and the words sluggish, but she somehow remained awake throughout the telling.

“They did,” Winter replied with a soft smile. “Two little dragonlings, with sapphires for eyes.”

“Mom, is that really how you and Momma met?” The skepticism- though entirely warranted- in her eldest daughter’s voice gave her pause. Normally, she’d object to outright lying to her children, but Yang insisted some fibs became better with age.

“It is,” she replied with a soft smile. “I may be a different sort of knight than I used to be, but Momma is every bit the dragon she’s always been. And the same goes for you two.”

“But we can’t breath fire.” Zise pouted. “I tried.”

“Never let the absence of success discourage you.” Although not necessarily applicable in this particular instance, the advice remained sound. “I believe with all my heart you have what it takes to achieve anything you set your mind to.”

“Okay.”

With that, Zise seemed content to close her eyes, murmuring a quick ‘night mom’ and snickering before sleep seemed to take hold of her. Of all the things for them to inherit from Yang, puns seemed to be the most obvious of the traits, and it brought a smile to her lips.

“Mom?” She looked over to her eldest, blue eyes swirling with uncertainty. “May I ask a question?”

“Of course, Zephyr.”

“Will you be home for my birthday this year?” It seemed to pain her to ask and that made Winter’s heart clench tight, as much because her daughter obviously seemed reluctant to voice the query as due to her answer.

“I’ll try my best.” Switching from the line units to a more sedentary job should have imbued her with far more time to spend with her family, but circumstances over the past two years had made that sporadic. It truly pained her to have missed the last one and she’d nearly jumped down the throat of a man senior to her over the whole ordeal. Were it not for a timely intervention by General Ironwood and Commander Cotta, she likely wouldn’t be in the military at this point, and she hadn’t decided how to feel about that. "I will do  _everything_  in my power to be there, Zephyr.“

"Promise?”

“I swear on my honor as a knight,” she said, recalling a silly little gesture Yang had done with Ruby a time or two. She offered her pinky up. “I’ll do my absolute best.” A tiny pinky wrapped around hers as her eldest daughter smiled. “Now, get some sleep.”

“Yes, Mom. Night.” Zephyr closed her eyes. “Love you.”

“I love you too.” Leaning over, she pressed a kiss against the foreheads of both children. “Both of you.”

As they both fell into blissfully untroubled dreams, the storm outside raged and Winter absently hoped Yang was experiencing better weather. 

* * *

Part IX 

Yang crept through the house, trying hard to keep hold of the presents she carried in her arms while moving down the stairs. If she so much as made a peep, both of her daughters would be out of bed and charging towards the living room to check beneath the tree, and she’d like to keep the mystery going for a few more years. Winter thought it a touch ridiculous but she got a kick out of the letters they wrote, asking politely for presents from an imaginary figure. At least they’d gotten past the phase where Zise asked why Zephyr got presents again a week later; she’d had enough birthdays to understand that proximity to the holiday didn’t have any bearing on the gifts one received. Fleetingly, she had a thought about how much easier this would be with a little help, but she dismissed it.

Winter had gotten tapped for a mission- a long one at that- three months ago and likely wouldn’t be back until the following year. It broke their hearts- and the woman raised hell with everyone who would listen- but it worried them more than anything. Zephyr had reacted to the news with a startling amount of grace for a child so young, and knowing that Winter had promised to be home made it worse.

Yang wanted to be mad. Truly, she did, but she also knew that it was just her inherent desire to protect her children at work. Her wife had promised to try and she did; sometimes, things didn’t fall in their favor. It wasn’t anyone’s fault and she really didn’t think the woman would fit into a regular nine-to-five. The desk job she’d taken already chaffed at her sense of wander and she tolerated it well for the sake of her family.

As Yang set the presents beneath the tree, her brows drew together. Sometimes- when she was missing her wife and the doubts took hold- she feared Winter would leave, that she would take the balance between the military and her family as absolutes, where only one could exist, and she would be on the losing end. It was, perhaps, one of the chief reasons she didn’t want Winter to make that distinction, but trying to balance the two seemed to be rubbing her raw. Nights like these… she worried. Though she wouldn’t be there to open them, Yang tucked the gifts to her wife under the tree- some from her, some from the girls, and two mailed from Weiss and Blake, who would be bringing their own family up to Atlas the following week for Zephyr’s birthday.

The rattling of the lock on the front door drew Yang’s attention, hopping to her feet and rushing towards the foyer; it wouldn’t be the first time Zephyr or Zise tried peeking out in the middle of the night, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious deliverer of presents and eater of cookies. When she made the last turn and saw the front door opened wide, she panicked and started running towards the snowy night, a shout rising in her throat.

It never left, though, as a hand clamped over her mouth and an arm wrapped around her waist just before she hit the threshold.

“Sundrop, it’s me.” Her eyes went wide, turning her head to see her wife smiling, cheeks red and snowflakes caught in her hair.

“Snowdrift, what’re you-”

She was silenced by a kiss- probably for the best, seeing as she’d spoken loudly, the surprise and previous panic doing little for her volume control. With ease, Yang fell into it, turning in her wife’s arms to throw her own around the woman’s neck and pull her deeper into the embrace. When they broke apart, words escaped her, too relieved to see Winter again.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I was supposed to be here yesterday morning, but the flight got delayed,” she said in a soft voice, leaning so true foreheads rested together. “For the next two weeks, I’m yours and the girls’ and  _no one_  else’s.”

“You always are,” she replied, sneaking another kiss and kicking the door closed, all too happy when her back was pressed against it. “The girls’ll be thrilled.”

“I brought some last minute gifts, all the way from Mistral.” Winter’s expression faltered. “Do you think Zephyr will forgive me?”

“Of course she will. You kept your promise.” Yang chuckled. “You just wait. When they wake up-”

“Mom?”

“Mom!”

They both turned to see their daughter pressed up against the banister, one absolutely stunned and the other obviously excited. Zephyr and Zise quickly descended the stairs as Winter pulled away to kneel down, arms open wide as their daughters rushed in for a hug.

“Girls, I missed you so much.”

“Did Santa bring you?” Zephyr was almost on the verge of tears as she clung tightly to Winter’s right shoulder. “I told him he didn’t have to bring anything else for me. Just you, Mom. He said he’d try.”

“It took both of us but, yes, he did,” she replied, pressing a kiss to the side of her daughter’s head. “I’ll be home for your birthday, as promised.”

“Did he bring my big thing, too?” Zise squirmed, looking around excitedly. “I told him that it was all I wanted and I wouldn’t ask for anything next year, either. Please, did he bring it?”

“Uh, I don’t know, Zise.” Yang shrugged discreetly at the curious look her wife gave her. “Maybe if you tell me what it is, I can find it? You know he likes to hide things sometimes.”

“A baby sister!” Zise giggled, still looking around as she wiggled away from Winter to look herself. “I wanna be like Zephie! That means I need a little sister! She has to be here somewhere.”

Her brows shot up, surprised at the request- it hadn’t been in their letters to Santa, and the one at the mall she’d taken them to last month made no mention of either wish.

“Really? When did you ask him that?” It was a stall tactic that worked as Zise’s expression screwed up in thought, turning to her sister for help. Meanwhile Yang leaned in close to her wife. “Think we can swing it? We’re batting two for two.”

“Our odds are good.” She spoke flippantly but the twinkle in her eyes was hard to hide and Yang could hardly believe she doubted, however briefly, how much the woman loved being with her family. “I think we should try.”

“Oh! It was at school!” Zise piped up, clapping her hands together. Her sister pointedly looked away, as if she hadn’t whispered the answer into the little one’s ear. “I told him and he said he’d keep it in mind.”

“Well, Gumdrop, you did tell him it’s your only present for the next two years.” Yang offered a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure he’s just spacing it out.”

“We’ll keep an eye out for your present,” Winter said, keeping her tone as reasonable possible despite the excitement hiding just behind the facade, something her wife could only see from years of being with her. “In the meantime, be a good girl and go get some sleep. You too, Zephyr. Mom’s not going anywhere for two weeks.”

“Can we go sledding tomorrow?”

Their eldest damn near begged, and Yang almost cried- for whatever reason, Zephyr would only ask to go sledding when Winter was home. She’d tried and tried to coax her into going over the past few months to no avail; Mom was the one who took them out the first time and it seemed that activity remained her domain.

“I’ll make cookies for when you get back.” She offered, reaching out to ruffle the girl’s hair.

“Can you come too, Momma?”

Yang paused for a moment before smiling wide. “Of course.”

“Then it’s settled.” Winter pulled their daughters in for an embrace and a good night kiss, passing them off to her for the same before they took themselves upstairs- they didn’t even try to sneak a peek into the living room. Once they were gone, Yang found herself caught up in her wife’s embrace once more, recognizing that curl to her lips. “We should start working on 'finding’ Zise’s gift. Don’t you agree?”

She smiled, tilting her head in that special way that invited Winter to scoop her up in her arms and take her to bed. “Fuck yeah.”

* * *

Part X

Winter paced the length of her CHU, curses falling from her lips with every step. Twelve hours. Twelve fucking hours they’d been on lockdown, completely blacked out from the world just beyond the perimeter. Details were sketchy but only a handful of situations could prompt such measures and some part of her knew that it was entirely selfish to be angry, yet she couldn’t help it. Ever since returning from her leave over the holidays, she hadn’t missed an opportunity to call home and see her girls, even celebrated the confirmation of Yang’s pregnancy with a more… private exchange- and she swore one of the communications guys had tapped in for a little while because there seemed to be one younger soldier who could not look her in the eye when they passed each other in the chow hall- but now she was seven hours late. The girls would be asleep by now, disappointed but ultimately not surprised, while Yang waited up as late as she could, and it killed her inside to be the cause. 

A knocking at the door drew her attention and she pulled it open with a sharp motion, scowling at the person standing just outside the door. 

“Commander,” she said, a thread of warning in her tone. “I’m on downtime." 

"You are,” they replied with a nod. “But I figured you were still up. Lockdown just ended." 

Some of Winter’s anger bled away, noting the heavy slump to her old friend’s shoulders. "We lost one." 

"A full squad.” Commander Cotta sighed. “The General and I just finished the notification. The fighting’s getting worse along the border." 

Her expression tightened, a pull deep in her chest tugging her two different ways. Part of her- the part that had found a home in the rank and file, that lived and breathed regulations and discipline- felt a new surge of rage fill her, the urge to grab her rifle and jump on the next convey, to fight on the front lines until the war was won coursing through her veins. But a different, equally strong stab of terror gripped her then, because it could just as easily have been her going home in a bag and Yang on the other end of the line as the General and Commander gave their sincere condolences. 

"Terry,” she said, for just a moment reaching out to the person she’d considered her best friend before Yang entered her life, who’d been there in one way or another over the past decade and more. “I think this is it for me." 

Reaching up to pull of their helmet, Terry looked up at her with a neutral expression. "Is this where you draw the line?" 

In her mind, she saw Yang, tears in her eyes as she tried to remain strong, two little girls clinging to her legs as a swaddled newborn laid in her arms, standing in front of a flag covered casket.

"Yes. I’ve been considering it for years now.” She paused, then shook her head. “I love being a soldier, but I can’t keep doing this to my family." 

"Winter Schnee, the family woman.” The Commander chuckled. “You really grew up, huh?" 

"You could say that.” She nodded, then glanced inside her CHU. “I-" 

"Have your priorities, I understand.” Terry tapped their fingers against their helmet. “I’ll assemble the paperwork. You’ve got, what, two years left in your contract?" 

"About that.” For a brief moment, she thought about stopping her friend. “Thank you." 

” _You_  have to tell the General, though.“

"Fair,” she replied with a chuckle, already dreading the conversation- not because he would attempt to dissuade her, though. Frankly, she expected he would try to hurry the process along as much as possible without compromising her abilities, but it would be a bittersweet conversation all the same. 

Before she turned to close the door, Winter raked her gaze across the far flung base near the front lines, the hasty constructions and soldiers milling about as the sun began to set. Years ago, she loved the view and the pride it instilled in her; now, all she wanted was to see her own front porch with her kids playing in the yard and her wife resting against her side. 

Tapping the keyboard to bring her laptop screen back up, Winter waited with a bouncing knee for the program to dial her wife, already expecting the chiding lecture when- or if it got picked up. With the time difference, it was the middle of the night back home, and some part of her worried- 

“Snowdrift?” Her voice came through before Yang’s visage filled the screen, marks on her cheeks shining bright with fresh tears. “You- you’re-" 

"I’m here, right here.” Tears pricked at her eyes. “I’m sorry, I-" 

"I saw it on the news.” Fresh tears fell from lilac eyes. “They said twelve were lost but they didn’t give the names and when you didn’t call-" 

"I’m sorry,” she said, feeling the urge to cry as she reached towards the screen, unable to provide the comfort her wife desperately needed. “We were on lockdown until they did the notifications; I called as soon as I could." 

"I know, I know, but I’ve just been so worried, between this and the baby-”

“The baby?" Another shot of terror tore through her. "What’s wrong? What happened?”

“It’s stupid.” Yang scrubbed at her eyes, trying to calm herself down, but her voice remained watery as she offered a goofy little smile, a hand coming to rest on her belly. “We’re two for three now." 

"Two for…” Shocked, she connected the dots as her mouth fell open. “We’re having a boy?" 

Her wife nodded, laughing and crying a little. "A little boy. Yeah." 

"I can’t wait to meet him,” she said, laughing breathlessly. “We’re going to have a boy!" 

"But what are we going to tell Zise?” Yang ran a hand through her hair. “I know it’s dumb but it’s been just- she asked for a baby  _sister_  and we’re having a boy and I’m too scared to tell her, and then I get home and see the news-" 

"We’ll just tell her.” Easier said than done from half a world away. “I know you’re worried but we have good kids, good girls- they’ll understand, especially Zise." 

"But what if she gets upset?” She scrubbed at her face. “I’m gonna wait, at least until she-” Her head snapped up, eyes going wide before she got up. “Girls, what are you two doing out of bed?" 

Winter waited, worry creasing her brow, until her wife reappeared with their daughters in her arms, both wearing their pajamas. "Girls, you promised to be good for Momma." 

"But we missed you!” Zephyr frowned, ducking her head slightly. “I’m sorry, Mom." 

"They don’t have school tomorrow,” Yang said, though her voice turned chiding. “But they both know better." 

"Sorry,” the two said, Zise lightly nibbling on her knuckle.

“Well, Mom’s sorry she didn’t call earlier.” She did her best to watch Yang’s expression from the corner of her eye, judging that the girls didn’t have an idea as to why. “But next time, listen to Momma.” Once they responded affirmatively, she paused, noting the way their eldest didn’t look up. “Zephyr?" 

"Momma was sad,” the little girl blurred out. “At dinner, she was trying not to cry and then she did when we went to bed. We didn’t know what to do! We didn’t mean to be bad; we just wanted to help." 

"We just didn’t know how,” Zise said, coming to her sister’s aid. “Mom, when are you coming home? Momma’s never sad when you’re home." 

"It’s going to be a little while longer.” Her brows knit together. “But when I come home next, I’m staying.” Little girls shouldn’t be worried about stopping their Momma’s tears, shouldn’t be listening to sobs from down the hall. Winter had that childhood and she swore her children would never know that; she failed this time but, soon, she’d fix it for good. “But, there’s been a… bit of a problem. I’m sorry, Zise.” She frowned and shrugged. “There’s a little complication with your present." 

"Snowdrift.” The warning tone of her wife cautioned her, but she knew her girls- she believed she did, anyway. 

“What, Mom? Momma?” Zise looked at them body, twisting her tiny body around. “What comprication?" 

"You’re not getting a little sister, Sweetheart.” She paused. “You’re both getting a little brother.”

For a few moments, both little girls watched the screen. 

Then Zise blinked, processing the information, before her eyes lit up.

“A brother!” She turned to her sister. “Zephie! We’re getting a brother!" 

"I know Zizi!” They both began squirming. “We gotta make sure he grows up right!" 

"Uh huh!" 

"Wait,” Yang said, relief still visible in her expression despite the curiosity in her tone. “What’s this about him growing up right?" 

"Boys are terrible,” Zephyr said, followed by her sister. 

“Aunt Weiss told us so." 

Her wife immediately shot her a look. "That’s  _your_  sister." 

"I’ll talk to her,” she said with a grin. “And we’ll make sure he’s  _not_  terrible." 

They talked for another thirty minutes before the girls’ eyelids became too heavy and Yang put them to bed again. While they were gone, Winter thought about the coming conversation, and settled her thoughts into a concise explanation. The moment her wife returned, she spoke. 

"I’m being serious about this being my last tour. I don’t want to put you and the kids through this again. I’ll beg for change on a street corner if I have to; I’ll find some job to help support this family, but doing this…” she gestured to her accommodations and sighed. “I love the military. But not enough to do this again. I’m coming home, getting out, and I’ll find my place elsewhere." 

"If that’s your decision, I’ll support you,” Yang said. “We’re doing well, ya know, saved up a bit. You don’t have to run into a new career right off the bat.” She paused, swallowing once before sighing deeply. “I… I’m glad, though. I said I’d support you whatever you choose, and if you change your mind, I’ll still support you.” Her shoulders dropped. “But having you home means a lot. Just get back home safe.” Lilac eyes darted down. “You’ll probably be home in time for him to be born. We’ll have to figure out names and-" 

"We’ll talk about that soon.” She smiled. “But you need your sleep, too.”

“Hey, I spent a few hours thinking you were dead.” Her wife crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll deal with a little sleep loss; don’t take this from me.” Her expression faltered. “Unless you-" 

"I have all the time in the world for you." 

"Good.” Yang nodded. “Cause we gotta  _talk_  about a few things, like what you’re going to be doing between now and when you get out." 

"Does 'missing and loving you’ count?" 

"Don’t try to butter me up; I know you can get  _very_  focused on things and the  _last_  thing I want is you distracted while you’re out there with bullets and mortars flying.”

And then began a small lecture born from the woman’s worry and she weathered it with a smile, allowing a few daydreams to fill her mind about perhaps even becoming a stay-at-home mom, though Yang teasingly suggested she learn to cook, first.

* * *

Part XI

_The roar of an engine, the wind on her face, the sun setting on the horizon- a beautiful ride. The green light ahead of her, easing on the throttle so she doesn’t hit the dip too hard, because she’s older and has so much more to lose than when she got the bike._

_The screech of brakes._

_The flash of headlights._

_Then the impact._  

Yang jolted awake, arms pinwheeling to protect herself as a scream caught in her throat. In the blink of an eye, a weight appeared as Winter tried to stop her thrashing. 

“Sundrop, it’s me, listen to my voice.” She spoke softly but with a firmness, trying to break through the fog in her wife's mind. “You’re safe, you’re in bed, you’re okay." 

Her breathing slowed as she blinked the world into focus, taking in the master bedroom. "I…" 

"You’re okay,” her wife said, her voice calming and soothing. A kiss pressed against her shoulder- the left one. “You’re here, with me. You’re okay." 

She looked down at the stump of her right arm, still wrapped in bandages, as she caught her breath.

"No… I’m not." 

Before Winter could argue, a cry echoed from down the hall, and she took her opportunity for an escape without hesitation, throwing the covers off herself and getting out of bed. 

"I can-" 

"It’s  _my_  turn.” Immediately after the words left her mouth, she winced. Her tone was too sharp, snapping at the woman for no reason out of wounded pride, but she brushed out of the room without uttering an apology. The words seemed so hard to put together now; if felt like nothing that came from her was ever good, not anymore. She entered the nursery while pulling off her night shirt as best she could with only one arm. It took a minute, more than a few curses falling from her lips, but once she got it off, she reached down into the crib to rub her thumb along her son’s face, trying to calm his crying.

After two kids and four months with a third, she shouldn’t be hesitating to pick up her child and nurse him. However… fear gripped her heart as he kicked out with tiny legs, hardly soothed by her touch. 

What if she dropped him? What if she couldn’t get him to nurse? What if he refused to be comforted by her touch? 

Two months past her accident and the fears remained.

She muscled past them to lift her son into her arm, carefully making her way over to the battered rocking chair to ease herself down into it, which never failed to bring a sigh of relief pushing past her lips. But he still cried and guiding him into nursing sometimes took more than one try and her frustration mounted as her son continued to wail rather than latch on. 

“Zachariah, stop that,” she said softly, habit bringing her right arm around to try and help, but her useless stump did nothing more than bump against his little feet. She should’ve attached the prosthetic rather than storm out of the bedroom. “ _Zach_." 

"Sundrop.” She looked up to see Winter hovering at the threshold. “He can’t understand you-" 

"Don’t you think I know that?” Mentally, she cursed, looking away in shame as her anger continued to seep out when it was least warranted. “I can do this." 

"I know you can. You’re his mother.” Slowly, she entered the room to kneel beside the rocking chair. “You can do this." 

She glanced at her wife, whose encouraging smile sent a pang through her chest. Without a word, she tried again, angling her son’s head just right to get him to latch on and begin suckling, a hiss slipping past her lips as a hand soothed the tense line of her shoulders. She shivered, the cool night air nipping at her now that she wasn’t moving around or distracted by her anger. Almost immediately, Winter fetched a blanket from the closet they kept for just this reason, draping it over her with tender care, and it brought tears to her eyes.

"I’m sorry.” She closed her eyes to try and stop them but she couldn’t hold it back. “ _I’m sorry_ -" 

"Don’t apologize.” Winter resumed her kneeling, intentionally laying a hand on her right bicep, just above the bandages. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I understand you’re frustrated and tired and you’re doing your best. I  _know_  that, the girls know that, even Zachariah knows that. You’re struggling, but-" 

"Stop.” She shook her head. “Stop being so understanding, I can’t- I  _can’t_  accept this.” Yang bit down on a sob, not wanting to upset her son’s nursing. “Don’t act like this is okay. Don’t act like this is- is just something  _small_. It’s not." 

"It’s a big change, a nigh insurmountable challenge, but it doesn’t change how much I love you, Yang.” She opened her eyes and looked at her wife, her pleading expression. “I am here for you. It’s not an easy adjustment for you but I’m right here with you and it doesn’t change a thing for me." 

"Don’t lie to me,” she said softly as the sob broke free, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t act like I’m the same woman you married. I’m not.” Her breathing became quicker as the fears coalesced, chest heaving as the words tumbled from her mouth. “I can barely feed our son, I can hardly hold him, and when he gets bigger I can’t- I can’t play with the girls, I can’t cook, and if I put that- that  _thing_  on me, and I hurt them-”

“You would  _never_  do that,” Winter said, a hardness to her voice as she reached up and cupped her face with both hands- a gesture she could no longer repay. “You’re their mother, Yang. They know Momma would never hurt them and they aren’t scared of your prosthetic. They’re just happy to have Momma out of the hospital, like me.” Thumbs brushed away her tears, a futile effort as more fell. “You aren’t the same woman I married or the one I fell in love with- you’re far  _more_  than you were back then. You’re the mother of two beautiful girls and a bouncing baby boy, you’re my loving wife who puts up with far more than anyone ever should, and you’ve done everything through pure grit and determination- you are my _hero_ , Sundrop, and this just proves it, because I know there’s some part of you that wants to give up, but you don’t, you just keep fighting and I’ve always _loved_ that about you.” Winter leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “I love you, Sundrop. I still believe that if our girls grow up to be half the woman you are, they’ll be magnificent. Because you are  _so_  much more." 

She didn’t want to believe it. Every morning since she woke up in the hospital, she’d looked down at where her elbow should be and saw nothing. It wasn’t fair- she had the green light, she wore all her gear,  _he_  was the drunk one- but there was nothing she could do, and the helplessness mixed with rage and sorrow. 

"I’m not,” she said, shaking her head slightly. “I don’t believe you." 

For the first time since the incident happened, the brave mask Winter had worn crumpled in front of Yang’s eyes. Some part of her dreaded this moment- because she knew her wife, and she could tell when she was holding something back. Now, it had happened, and she would lose the last tether she had to that old life. 

But nothing could prepare her for what she heard.

"It should’ve been me.” Winter hung her head, shoulders falling with the words. “You’ve been here for them, been the best mom and the best partner, while I’ve been away fighting a war. I wasn’t here for you when you needed me but you shouldered the burden anyway, and you’ve been  _so_  strong.” She looked back up, obviously holding back tears of her own. “It should’ve been me. You didn’t deserve this- I go to war and come back without a scratch, but you go and ride your bike for the first time in a year, and some drunk does this to you- it’s not right." 

"Don’t say that.” She remembered, vividly, the terror that griped her every time she turned on the news, every time an unfamiliar number called the house, that night when she waited up nearly until dawn fearing the worst- it wasn’t something to say lightly. “You wouldn’t want this, or worse- we couldn’t lose you." 

"And I can’t lose  _you_ , Yang.” Winter leaned forward, their foreheads touching. “But I feel like you’re slipping away from me and I just- if I had the power, I’d switch places with you in a heartbeat." 

"No you wouldn’t." 

"Would you stop loving me?” Her voice was soft. “If I came back without an arm or a leg, or if I could barely speak or didn’t remember you or the girls, would you give up on me?" 

"No,” she replied instantly, because she’d thought of that before, when she volunteered to welcome back Atlesian soldiers, when she saw some who came back broken in body but not yet in spirit, she confronted the possibility that one day, it might be her wife coming back like that. “I wouldn’t." 

"Then believe me when I say I’m not giving up on you.” She took a shuddering breath. “I’d give the very breath from my chest for you, for the kids- no hesitation. Seeing you in pain like this- I want to help you, I want to take it all away, but you’re not letting me, Yang." 

"I don’t know how.” She squeezed her eyes tightly closed. “I don’t know how to deal with this.”

“I know. So let’s find out together.” She opened her eyes to see the conviction in her wife’s expression, the unwavering loyalty and love shining in her eyes. “You’ve done so much for so long. You’ve been holding down the fort by yourself and you’ve been  _so_  strong. Now it’s time to lean on me. I’ll support you. I mean our vows just as much now as I did when I said them. We’re not the same people as we were then but we’ve grown _together_. And we’ll keep doing that. That hasn’t changed.” Lightly, she was guided into a kiss- and it suddenly occurred to her that she’d turned away from affection since being discharged from the hospital, too ashamed of her loss to accept much, especially when she kept snapping at the woman. “I love you, my sweet Sundrop.”

“I love you, too,” she replied, voice thick as the urge to cry surged again. This time, the tears didn’t come from anger or sorrow. Instead, she just felt a deep well of affection surge forward, and wished she could wrap an arm around her wife. Somehow, Winter could tell what she wanted, and showed no hesitation in dipping low and lifting her right arm up, sliding beneath and nuzzling into her shoulder. 

“Is he still nursing?" 

"Yeah,” she said, sniffling. “He’s gonna be a big boy at this rate. He’s been like that the whole time." 

"You mentioned he was always kicking and punching. He’s going to be an active one,” Winter said, sliding her arms around her waist, halfway sitting on the ground and half in the chair. 

“Can you… move the blanket a little?" 

Her wife complied easily, allowing both of them to gaze lovingly down at their son, faint wisps of blond hairs on his head. Between that and the blue eyes, he looked like a spitting image of his grandfather, though she was assured he acted just like Yang did at that age. Zephyr and Zise were ecstatic about their baby brother, and their enthusiasm in playing with him made the past few weeks much easier, but it shouldn’t be on their kids to raise each other. She knew that pain all too well. As their son finished feeding, Yang shifted him away with a slight wince- he rarely wanted to stop- and silently handed him over to Winter for burping. 

"Do you need help with your shirt?” Winter offered, gently. 

“I got it.” She picked her shirt up and pulled it over her head. 

“Okay.” Her wife paused. “How about you head back to bed?”

As she got her arm through and pulled the other sleeve over her stump, she looked over and saw the little twinkle to those blue eyes. Meaning, she had an idea and wanted time to execute it. “Sure." 

She went over and gave her son and wife kisses on the cheeks before retreating to the bedroom and sliding beneath the covers. It felt weird, leaving Winter to handle everything, but she supposed it helped to think of it as payback for years of long nights waiting for the woman to come home. A few minutes later, the bedroom door pushed open fully as Zephyr and Zise shuffled into the room, crawling into the bed as Winter carried Zachariah in after them. 

"Hey, what’s this?” She raised a brow as the girls settled themselves against her sides. 

“Mom said Momma needs hugs,” Zise replied sleepily, already dropping back asleep. 

“Night Momma,” Zephyr said, only a murmur coming from her sister as Winter eased into bed after her, leaning over to set Zach on her chest. 

“There.” Winter pressed a kiss to her temple. “Now we can sleep. Together, as a family.” She settled down, draping an arm across Yang’s stomach. “It’s how we’ll get through this." 

She blinked, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before smiling down at her family. "Yeah. G'night, Snowdrift." 

"Night, Sundrop." 

Closing her eyes, she fell into a peaceful sleep for the first night in a long while.

* * *

Part XII

Winter sighed, scrubbing at her eyes as she tried to read the page for the third time with little success. A glance at the clock confirmed it was late into the night, the kids were asleep in their bed and her wife had yet to get home. It made sense, to some extent; the school had graciously given Yang a two year sabbatical after her accident, and coming back meant a lot to catch up on, but… still, her mind wandered and she worried. They’d come a long way between her transition to civilian life and her wife’s physical therapy. It wasn’t the future she’d imagined those last few months in a war zone, counting down the days, but they’d smoothed over the rough patches as best they could. Yang had adapted to using her left arm for most things and asking for help rather than stubbornly trying to do things herself. Meanwhile, Winter had lost some of her rigidity, no longer snapping awake at four thirty or wearing her hair up every minute of the day. She’d thought about picking up a job to fill her days but honestly couldn’t justify it; Atlas paid their teachers very well and Yang could comfortably support them, plus it helped being flexible enough to pick up and drop off the girls while taking care of Zach during the day. But the idle time preyed on her mind sometimes, filling it with possibilities… 

She was being foolish, she knew that much. They’d been together for over ten years and she loved Yang with all her heart, they had three beautiful children together, and she didn’t doubt that her wife still loved her. She could feel it in their kisses, their embraces… but their intimacy had lacked recently.

It made sense- three small children weren’t conducive to an abundance of privacy- but she’d started to suspect an ulterior reason for the absence. They’d made an effort- at first enthusiastically, right after Winter returned from her last trip to the war zone, and then sporadically after Yang’s accident- but it tapered off as excuses became more available. 

With a frown, she picked up her scroll. The last message said her wife would be home two hours ago- she’d even left a plate out for her- but the delay… perhaps she was reading too far into it. A quick message to ask if her wife was okay, though, wouldn’t be remiss. 

The front door caught her attention, relief flooding her as she set the book aside to greet Yang as she shuffled inside. 

"Welcome home, Sundrop,” she said, opening her arms wide. 

“Hey, Snowdrift.” Yang gave her a tired smile, walking straight into her embrace and holding as tightly as she dared. “Sorry I’m late." 

She held her wife, sensing the tension bleeding from her shoulders. "Rough day?" 

"Yeah… you could say that.” She drew away, frowning and tucking an errant lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “Just… really rough." 

"Well, perhaps dinner will make you feel better?” Something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “I could warm it up." 

Distractedly, Yang nodded, bending down to untie her boots. "Sure.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line before moving to the kitchen, taking the plate from the fridge and putting it in the microwave for a minute or two. Meatloaf with mac and cheese and mashed potatoes- one of her wife’s favorite meals. She could hear the woman sighing with relief as she removed her prosthetic, though she found it odd that her wife would do that outside the bedroom. She usually preferred to keep it away from the kids, always worried something might activate while detached and hurt them. When Yang finally entered the dining room and plopped down at the table, setting it next to her, it constituted another red flag. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She prodded gently, taking a seat beside the woman and setting a hand on her shoulder. 

“Nah, nah, it’s- it’s just a bunch of boring stuff.” She shrugged, offering a smile that wouldn’t pass as convincing to even the worst judge. “Nothing to get worked up over." 

Winter remembered the days when her wife- then girlfriend- had rambled on and on about her career choice, about the things she learned, and then after she moved to Atlas and established herself as a teacher, every day brought with it a new story until she felt like she knew Yang’s students just as well as she did. It stood to reason that the lack of information now didn’t have anything to do with Winter’s presumed disinterest in the subject. 

"Okay,” she said, running her wife’s shoulder idly. “But if you want to talk, I’m always here. Even if it’s boring." 

"Yeah. Thanks." 

Picking up her fork, Yang started eating, though her mind seemed miles away. She only got halfway through the plate before she started pushing the food around, the metal scraping across ceramic. 

"Zephyr’s soccer game is this weekend," Winter said, hoping to pull her wife’s attention back to the present. 

"Hmmm." 

Well, that didn’t work. 

"And Zise wants to try judo." 

"Sounds good." 

"Zach learned what the color purple is today. He’s rather fond of pointing things out when they’re purple." 

"Cute.”

Obviously, this wasn’t getting her anywhere. Pulling her hand back, she got up from her seat, arranging the words in her head before speaking. She stepped behind her wife’s chair and draped her arms over the woman’s shoulders, pressing a kiss behind her ear. 

“Sundrop, I know something’s going on with you. I don’t know what it is or why you don’t want to talk about it, but just know I’m here for you.” She stood up tall, rubbing at the woman’s shoulders. “Take the time you need. I’ll be here." 

She turned to give the woman some space, heading towards the bedroom and taking the prosthetic with her; at least it would be one less thing for Yang to worry about. 

"Wait.” Looking back, she could see a flash of panic in lilac eyes. “Do you… promise not to think less of me?" 

Brows furrowed, she turned back and tried to keep the confusion from her voice. "Of course." 

"Okay, cause it’s… dumb.” She sighed, shaking her head and putting her face in her hand. “It’s… it’s so dumb." 

"If it’s affecting you this much, it’s not dumb,” she said, reclaiming her seat and putting a hand on her wife’s shoulder. “I’m here to listen. Just let it out." 

"You remember that… new teacher they brought on last year? The one who teaches sign language?" 

Vaguely, she recalled the conversation. "I think you said her name was Neo?" 

"Yeah, her, she’s the leader of our department this year and… she…” Yang paused, glancing her way before hanging her head in shame. “She calls me Lefty." 

Winter blinked. "She calls you Lefty?" 

"I told you it was stupid.” She slumped. “It’s just a name, and yeah, I  _should_  be pissed that she just dropped a whole bunch of new requirements on us mid term, and we’re busting our asses to get the outlines turned in by the end of the week, but her coming in all 'got those assessments ready, Lefty?’ it just- it-”

“It reduces you to something you’re neither proud of nor entirely acclimated to yet,” she said, trying to catch her wife’s gaze. “It’s your first year back and you’ve been doing your best to deal with the reactions from your students, you shouldn’t have to deal with your colleagues on top of it.” She slid her hand across the woman’s shoulders to pull her into a one armed hug- something she’d started doing more often whenever her wife didn’t have her prosthetic attached. It seemed to soothe her some, putting them on equal grounds when it came to simple affectionate gestures. “It’s not dumb to be upset over someone hurting you. It’s not wrong to still react to a sore spot. You’re still healing and it’s a long road. Have you brought this up with the Headmaster?" 

"No,” she replied, leaning into Winter. “It’s just a name." 

"It’s not 'just a name’ and, even if it  _was_ , it’s still drawing attention to a recent injury that you’re trying your best to cope with in your own time.” Anger started to rise in her as her expression soured. “It’s bullying, that’s what it is." 

"Snowdrift, I’m an adult-" 

"Which neither precludes you from being bullied nor means it’s any more justified.” She shook her head. “Being an adult doesn’t mean you accept other people treating you horribly and it doesn’t mean it’s okay. If anything, _she_ is an adult, too, and should know better than to tease someone she hardly knows about something without talking about it first.” She shifted, trying to keep her anger contained and cool. “If you’d prefer, it also qualifies as harassment, and it’s obviously creating a toxic work environment for you." 

That earned her a curious look before dismay overtook her wife’s expression. "I’ve been acting weird, haven’t I?" 

"I’ve had my suspicions for a while now, yes, but I didn’t want to press.”

Yang cringed, hanging her head again. “I just- I didn’t want to come home bitching because someone called me a mean name. We tell the girls not to get upset when someone calls them names, to take the high road- I just… don’t want to be a hypocrite." 

"We also tell them to _talk to us_ when someone calls them a name,” she said, nodding towards the staircase. “We tell them all the time they don’t have to go through anything alone, that we’ll be here for them. That includes you, Sundrop.” Winter paused, deciding to bite the bullet. “It’s starting to affect your self image, isn’t it?" 

Her wife looked away. "It’s hard to feel beautiful when the first thing people see is a hunk of metal." 

Mentally, she replaced the word, but instead of going that route decided to let things simmer a while longer; they could deal with their lack of physical intimacy later. Right now, she needed to see her wife smile and laugh. 

"Well,  _I_  see your eyes first,” she said, earning a glance and a brief chuckle. “And I still think you’re beautiful, but I must admit I fell for your  _disarming_  personality rather than your smile." 

"Oh no.” She started to laugh. “Don’t go there.  _I_  am the pun master here." 

"Sorry if my jokes are difficult to  _hand_ le." 

Her shoulders shook as she tried to keep her amusement under control. "Stop. I- I need to finish eating!" 

She held up the prosthetic. "Need a  _hand_  with that?" 

Finally, Yang busted out laughing, shaking her head. "I- I love you, and you’re horrible." 

"Luckily, I love you, too, and you’re part of the reason I’m this bad." 

"Oh no, there’s  _proof_ , not one Schnee is good at telling jokes, there’s science for these things." 

"And yet, I can still make you laugh.” She leaned in, drawing her wife into a kiss once her laughter had calmed. “Will you at least talk to Neo, explain that you don’t like the name?”

“Yeah,” she replied, stealing another kiss. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Snowdrift. I was just…" 

"It’s quite alright, but you did have me rather worried.” She stood up. “Now, finish your dinner and come to bed. We’ll forget all about your terrible coworker." 

She could see a twinkle in lilac eyes. "Hey, Blake and Weiss are coming to town soon, yeah?" 

"Next month, for a weekend." 

"Think they’ll take the kids for a few hours?” Her lips curled into a smirk. “They should spend some time with their Aunts and cousins, yeah? We can even trade off- one day each." 

"I think they might be amenable to that.” She smiled, getting another kiss before heading towards the hall. “I’ll talk to Weiss about it." 

"Thanks. And Snowdrift?” She turned to see her wife’s smile, just as bright as the day they met. “I love you." 

"I love you, too, Sundrop.”


	3. Parts 13-18

Part XIII

Yang rolled on onto her side, brow furrowing as she tried to wrap the sheets around her tighter. The night had turned colder than usual for mid May and it seemed like her body temperature ran perpetually cooler nowadays, as if losing her arm somehow made her- 

Wait, where was her wife? Furrowing her brows, she rolled onto her back and checked the bed beside her- empty and cool to the touch. Sitting up slightly, she noted the lack of anyone in the bedroom and the bedside clock reading just shy of four in the morning. 

Immediately, she worried- it had been years since Winter had woken this early, often too restless to remain in bed- and she grabbed her robe, pulling it around her shoulders in a motion made fluid by practice. 

Four years after the accident and she almost felt whole again, though some part of her realized she’d never truly reach the level of independence she had before. Still, the custom made robe bereft of a full right sleeve didn’t bother her anymore as she padded into the hallway, deciding to check the kids’ rooms first, seeing as her wife had the penchant to check on them while they slept. 

But Zachariah and Zise weren’t in their bunk beds and Zephyr wasn’t in her bed across the hall. 

Panic flared as she hurried towards the staircase, unsure if there existed a plausible reason or if she was trapped in one of those terrible nightmares she sometimes had, where her entire family had up and left her while she slept, often standing just beyond a door she couldn’t reach and- 

“Whoa!" 

"Zach! Quiet!” Zise whispered, though it could hardly be called that. 

 Pressing against the wall, Yang inched towards the living room and peeked inside, all her worries melting away as she found every missing member of her family accounted for- and rather busy at that.

Zachariah carried a large plate laden with cookies in his arms, tongue poking out of his mouth as he tried to carry it to the coffee table, a little bit of steam still wafting up and carrying the smell throughout the house. Behind him, Zise carried several boxes wrapped in yellow and purple paper, keeping an eye on her brother as they brought their burdens into the room from the kitchen. Meanwhile, by the fire place, Zephyr reached up from her perch atop Winter’s shoulders to hang a banner that said “Happy Mother’s Day!” in sparkling purple letters. 

Her wife stepped back, obviously looking up for feedback. “Is it centered?" 

Zephyr regarded the banner for a moment before giving a resolute nod. "Yep!" 

"Good.” With a nod of her own, Winter knelt and helped their eldest down. “Status report!" 

"Cookies are cooling!" 

"Presents are present!" A giggle.

"Banner’s up!" 

"Excellent,” she said with a nod. “It’s time for the next phase: to the kitchen for Operation Breakfast!" 

"Aye aye!” The three little ones- ten, eight, and four- offered various degrees of salutes, from a pretty good imitation to a pretty silly one before the three dashed towards the kitchen, trying to calm their giggling as they laid claim to the various tasks ahead of them. 

For a moment, Winter watched them with a smile before sighing and rubbing at her temple. “Please  _pretend_  they succeeded, Sundrop. They worked very hard on this.” She remained silent, fairly certain her wife hadn’t actually seen her. “After seventeen years, I know better than to try surprising you, but they  _really_  wanted to do this for you." 

"You didn’t try to talk them out of it?” She couldn’t resist poking a little fun at her wife, a smile curling her lips. 

“Have you  _met_  our children?” A groan- half frustrated, half adoration- reached her ears. “They certainly learned how to pout from their Auntie Ruby and they inherited stubbornness from both sides of the family. How you’ve managed to keep up with them is  _beyond_  me.”

“It’s a gift,” she said, turning towards the staircase. “I suddenly feel really tired. Think I’ll go to bed." 

Returning to the bedroom, she slipped out of her robe and under the covers, wrapping the sheets around herself and doing her best to feign sleep even as the scent of fresh cooked bacon and eggs began filling the house. When she heard little feet coming up the hallway, followed by Winter’s heavier tread, she buried her face in the covers and pillow to hide her smile. The door pushed open and a weight appeared on the edge of the bed as Zach crawled on hands and knees to start shaking her shoulder. 

"Momma! Wake up Momma!" 

"No,” she said, unable to resist teasing her kids. 

“But Momma! It’s time to get up!" 

"Five more minutes!” She echoed their pleas, wiggling further into the sheets as the kids laughed. 

“Momma, you  _have_  to get up!” Zephyr seemed absolutely resolute in her logic. “You make us get up all the time!" 

Immediately, her eyes snapped open. "And you always wake up  _right_  away, huh?" 

While their eldest had the presence of mind to realize the trap she’d just walked into, Zise immediately countered. "We do, Momma! We just don’t get  _outta bed_  right away!" 

"We need to send her to law school,” she said with a chuckle, glancing at Zach, perched up on her side and still lightly shaking her. “Hey, I’m up!" 

"You gotta be up up!" 

"I  _am_  up up!" 

Zacharias shook his head, the gleam in his eyes speaking of a plan finally coming to fruition. "Nuh uh! I gotta call in… the claw!”

“No, not the claw!” She feigned shock as their son did his best to dig his little fingers into her side, trying to tickle her. For a few moments, she pretended he succeeded before wiggling her left arm out of the sheets. 

“ _Two_  can play at that game!” Zach shrieked as she began tickling him, Zeph and Zise knowing to stay out of arm’s reach once The Claw came out. By the time Winter scooped him up to save him, the little boy was completely out of breath and giggling uncontrollably. 

“Now, kids, it’s time you learn a very important lesson,” Winter said, setting their son down by his sisters before sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning towards them, as if imparting a secret. “In engagements like these, experience  _always_  matters." 

Yang had enough time to parse the advice before her wife turned and began tickling her, seeking out every weak point she had and exploiting it mercilessly. She laughed uncontrollably, thrashing lightly, and laughed all the harder when their kids joined the fray. 

"Stop- stoo- ahahahaha! Sno- dri- hahah! Stoooooop!” When the assault came to an end, she couldn’t catch her breath, pulled into a kiss almost immediately. 

“Do you surrender?" 

"Yes,” she replied, pushing herself up and accepting the all encompassing hug from her children. “Momma’s up. But now she wonders  _why_  she’s up." 

"Happy Mother’s Day!” The three chorused, all beaming up at her. She gasped. 

“It’s Mother’s Day already?” At the enthusiastic nods she received, Yang laughed. “Well then! I guess I should get up!” As the kids cheered, they got off the bed and bounced beside Winter, the four eagerly awaiting Yang to leave the bed. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?" 

"We made you breakfast!” Zephyr said. 

“And presents!” Zise added. 

“And then we’re going to see Grandpa!” Zacharias finished, causing her brows to furrow.

Winter sat on the bed beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I will tell you all about that part later. For now, there’s a plate and some presents with your name on it.“

Yang smiled, kissing her wife before looking at their kids. 

"Well, sounds like a plan to me!” She got to her feet and immediately knelt down, pressing kisses to the kids’ cheeks. "Lead the way!“ 

The three charged out of the room, their parents following in their wake a few moments later, but not before Winter caught her waist, pressing up against her back and speaking directly into her ear. "The moment we drop them off with your father, were doing whatever you want.” She pressed a kiss beneath her ear and nipped lightly at the lobe. “ _Whatever_  you want." 

"Hmmmm, that seems more like a birthday present to me,” she replied with a chuckle. 

“In that case, consider every day your birthday.” Winter’s smirk was audible and she braced herself. “Because not a day goes by where I don’t want to see you in your  _birthday suit_." 

"I’m  _so_  glad they got  _my_  sense of humor,” she said, turning her head to get another kiss before making to follow their kids. She was stopped, though, by her wife refusing to let her leave the embrace quite yet. 

“Hey.” She looked into the woman’s expression. “Jokes aside? You’re beautiful and a wonderful mother and I love you so very much. Today is all about you. Okay?" 

She smiled at the warm affection filling her chest. "I love you, too." 

They kissed again, breaking it off when little voices called out to them. They hurried down, hand-in-hand, to join their kids for breakfast, while more than a few ideas popped into Yang’s head and set aside until that night.

* * *

Part XIV

Winter yawned, heading up the stairs and shutting off lights as she went. Yang was off supervising another trip, leaving her alone with the kids for two weeks, and while she didn’t expect a good night’s rest, she had to do something to be functional. Plus, she still had her wife’s voice in her ears from their call- after the mandated lights out, during the brief privacy Yang had while away- so maybe tonight wouldn’t be  _too_  bad- 

She came to a dead stop in the hall as her hearing caught a sound that sent dread running down her spine. Silently, she waited, hoping she wouldn’t hear it again, but another sniffle off to her left had her turning towards her eldest child’s bedroom and knocking. 

"Zephyr?” Slowly, she turned the knob and pushed the door open, taking in the darkened room. “Sweetheart? Are you awake?" 

"Yeah…” Her daughter’s voice- tiny and with a warble- came from the bed, which she reached in four long strides, sitting on the edge as Zephyr sat up and scrubbed at her face. “Sorry, Mom." 

"Come now, why are you apologizing?” Her brows furrowed, a frown tugging at her lips. “Does your stomach hurt? Are you feeling well?" 

"I’m okay.” She muttered, head tilting down. “I’m fine." 

"You wouldn’t be crying in the middle of the night if you were fine,” she said, reaching out and coaxing her daughter into an embrace, running her fingers through her daughter’s hair to calm her. “You can tell me. If you want. Or perhaps I can sing you a song?" 

For a while, they sat there quietly, until a small voice squeaked out. "I like a boy." 

"Oh?” Her brows rose, surprised by the statement though she probably shouldn’t be. Even if her children would always be exactly that in her eyes, Zephyr had just turned thirteen. Crushes were bound to happen and perhaps better now rather than later; both Yang and herself had been late bloomers in that regard and, while it did work out in their favor, it also made for some… interesting situations. “Is he a nice boy?”

“No,” her daughter replied, sniffling again. “He talks back to the teachers and he doesn’t do his homework. He never comes to the pep rallies and he always complains in gym. He acts like a bad boy…” She shifted a little. “But, he comes to the library during lunch like I do, and he’s nice to the librarian and he always puts the books back in the right order. I don’t think he’s really as bad as he acts. And he’s always nice to me." 

"Your Momma did that sometimes- talked back to teachers, I mean. But only the ones that deserved it,” Winter said, hoping to buy herself time. Feelings and relationships… any success she had in either department could be directly traced to others, chiefly Yang. Her wife had even agreed that, when it came time for The Talk, she would be better suited to give it. “Did you tell him you like him?" 

Wide blue eyes looked up at her then, and for some reason it brought to mind the first time she’d told her wife about the time a Private nearly killed her team by throwing the grenade the wrong direction. "Mom! I can’t do  _that!_ " 

"Why not?" 

"Because he’ll say no!” She blinked, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. “He won’t talk to me in the halls or during class- only in the library. Otherwise… it’s like I don’t exist." 

She bit her lip, trying to understand her daughter’s logic. It seemed like addressing the issue head on would be the easiest option… but that didn’t always work out for her, either, so she rubbed a hand along her daughter’s back. 

"Well then, why are you crying? If you’re not going to tell him, then he’ll never know-" 

"Because he’ll never know!” Her daughter’s hands gripped her shirt as she buried her face in Winter’s chest, her crying renewed. “I want him to know… but I can’t tell him!" 

She wrapped her arms around Zephyr, silently praying Yang could somehow feel their daughter’s distress and would call, or suddenly appear at the door- anything, really, because she was entirely out of her depth at this point.

"It’s so dumb." 

"Hush now, don’t say that,” she said instantly, reminded too vividly of when her wife had said something similar and the shame that accompanied the words. “It’s not dumb. Caring about others, no matter the capacity, is  _never_  dumb." 

"But-" 

"Listen to me.” Winter waited until her daughter looked up, noting the seriousness in her expression. “I’m going to tell you the biggest secret right now, okay? Are you listening?” Zephyr nodded, wiping at her eyes again. “Love… is  _never_  easy. It wasn’t for your Momma and I, it wasn’t for Aunt Weiss and Aunt Blake, it wasn’t for Auntie Ruby and Uncle Sun, and it won’t be for you, or Zise, or Zach. It’s going to keep you up some nights, and sometimes you won’t even know why two months later, and sometimes you’ll love the wrong person and get hurt. But love- caring about someone, be it family, friends, or a partner… it’s never easy. And it’s not dumb.” She paused to wipe some of the tears from her daughter’s face. “You don’t know what to do right now. That’s okay. You’re young and you have time to explore. You have time to see if he talks to you outside the library or if you can’t hold it in anymore and you tell him yourself. You say he’s nice to you; see if he’s nice to others. In time, you’ll either tell him or move on… but if it gets to the point where you might not have a chance to tell him, do it then.” She bent down and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “There’s not enough love in this world to go without telling someone. It’s something that can eat away at you, the fact you never told them. Love freely, my dear, and live without regrets." 

Zephyr sniffled and tilted her head. "Is that what you and Momma did?”

She pressed her lips together into a tight line. The children knew Grandpa Tai and had heard stories about their deceased Grandma Summer and Grandmother Raven, but Winter’s side of the family remained a rarely mentioned open secret. Father had never approved of his daughters’ choices, especially in partners, and both of them got disowned along the line. Weiss had managed to fight the battle with her father and claimed the family business in victory but by then their mother… well, if she even remembered she had children, she didn’t miss them, and her liver didn’t last long enough for them to change that. But where Weiss didn’t remember the early years after Whitley was born, Winter did, and she remembered the woman her mother used to be. 

“There’s one person I wish I had the chance to say ‘I love you’ to one more time. I don’t have that chance anymore. It’s not the sort of regret I want you to ever know. So, even if it hurts, tell him, before you can’t.” She paused. “And, since we’re being honest, I wasn’t very nice when Momma met me. I was strict, severe, and I didn’t always make such good jokes.” She pointedly ignored the look her daughter gave her. “But when your Momma said she loved me… I knew I loved her, too, like no one else.” She smiled. “You’re a bit young to be that far but… saying 'I like you’ isn’t the end of anyone’s world. And even if it is, Momma and I will be here to help you put it back together." 

Zephyr hugged her tight then. "Thanks, Mom." 

"Anytime,” she replied as she returned the embrace, holding it for a few moments. “But now, it’s time for you to sleep. You’ve got school in the morning.”

After tucking her daughter in- a bit of a novelty, since she hadn’t properly done so in almost three years- Winter kissed her forehead again and bid her goodnight. When she made it back to her bedroom, she changed into her sleepwear and settled into bed, though her previous weariness was entirely lost. Now, only one thought circled around again and again until she reached over and grabbed the scroll on her nightstand. 

“Snowdrift?” Her wife’s voice was thick from sleep. 

“I just wanted to say I love you,” she said. “One more time." 

Yang chuckled, smile evident in her voice. "I love you too. I’ll be home soon.”

* * *

Part XV

Yang stared at the front door, leg bouncing as she sat in the chair, the living room television droning on in the background. Her nerves were frayed as she glance at the clock- half past eleven- and she put her hands on the arms of the chair, preparing to get up. 

“Sundrop,” her wife said, watching her from the couch. “We’d be able to hear them-" 

"That doesn’t mean I can’t check!” Perhaps she was being a touch overprotective but it wasn’t like Zephyr to stay out past curfew. Compound that with her sixteen-year-old being on a date- she didn’t think she was wrong to worry. “This isn’t like her." 

"Things happen.” Winter muted the tv. “They might’ve lost track of time. She’s a good girl. She wouldn’t disobey us without good reason, so we shouldn’t be angry." 

"I’m not angry- just worried,” she said, though she did want to have a word or two with the boy when they got back. 

When she’d heard the description of him, she didn’t exactly get a warm and fuzzy feeling, and their brief introduction earlier that night hadn’t done wonders, either. He looked like a kid who hadn’t yet decided who he wanted to be and instead emulated whatever he saw in movies and shows without understanding the context of the behaviors- maybe it was the teacher in her talking, but she’d had students like him before, and they always had something smart to say, but rarely anything that came from the heart. 

“Should we call the cops?" 

"Are you going to have him arrested?" 

”… no?“ She smiled at her wife’s laugh, the fond shake of her head making the situation a little lighter. 

When the sound of a scroll rang out, Yang felt a little bit of relief- Winter was right in that their daughter wouldn’t intentionally stay out and had likely just lost track of time.

"Schlong residence,” Winter jokingly said with a curl to her lips that disappeared in the next moment. “Yes, speaking.” Yang shifted at the difference in her wife’s tone, watching the way her expression and posture straightened. “Is she alright?” She stood up, walking towards Winter as her chest tightened, unable to take comfort in the relieved little sigh that burst from the woman’s lips. “Which hospital is she being taken to?" 

"What’s going on?” She felt her heart start to beat faster at the subtle shake in her wife’s head. “Don’t 'no’ me- what’s going on?" 

"We’ll be there soon as we can,” Winter replied to the scroll, hanging up and dropping it to the ground, both hands immediately settling on Yang’s shoulders. “Listen to me, Sundrop. She’s okay." 

"Don’t fucking stall, Winter- what happened, where is our daughter-" 

"There was a car accident.” Blue eyes bored into hers as her chest caved in on itself. “She’s okay, but they’re taking her to a hospital for x-rays." 

Tears sprang to her eyes as her knees went weak, hiccuping sobs lodging in her throat, and she nearly choked on them as she grabbed her wife’s arms just to stay standing. "No no no no-" 

"Sundrop- Sundrop, listen to me-" 

Thoughts swirled in her head, terror surging forth- she’d never wanted her children to experience that, waking up in a hospital, the beeping, the smells, the foggy recollections because of morphine, the fear that none of it was real and she’d died- 

” _Yang!_ “ Her gaze snapped to her wife’s face, tears streaming down her cheeks; she didn’t know when Winter had grabbed and pulled her in, held her tight, but she couldn’t be sure she was supporting any of her own weight right then. "I know. I know this is hard for you. But our daughter is alive and conscious and she needs us right now. I’ll get Zise and Zach; you get the car started and open the garage. Okay?”

“Okay,” she replied, just barely processing the words. But she could latch on to a few phrases- Zephie was alive and needed them- and managed to nod. “Okay." 

"Can you do that?" 

"Yeah. Just- just hurry.” She stumbled away, eyes searching everywhere, thoughts a trainwreck inside her head. It took her a moment to find the keys to the family car, entirely too long to remember how to operate the garage door, and by the time she’d strapped herself into the passenger seat and turned the engine over, her head had somewhat cleared enough for her to focus. 

She pat herself down, finding her scroll and quickly shooting off a text to Ruby, Sun, Weiss, and Blake. They wouldn’t be able to help- may not even be awake- but they should at least know. 

By the time Winter brought out Zise and Zach, she had heard back from Blake, the perpetual night owl and light sleeper. 

“I- I already texted everyone.” She swallowed hard. “Did she break anything? Is her head okay? D-did she?" 

"I don’t know,” Winter said, firmly though she reached out and grabbed Yang’s hand, squeezing it in reassurance. “The officer didn’t seem like it was anything major. She’s being taken to the emergency room as a precaution. Let’s just get there and hope for the best." 

"Right. Okay.” She breathed in deep, trying to keep the thoughts at bay of what could await them. Trying to distract herself, she turned in her seat and looked back at their two other children, both rubbing sleep from their eyes. Between them, the older of the two had fear evident in her expression, being old enough to remember the last time the family had rushed to the hospital sans one member. “Zise? Zachariah?” They both looked at her then. “Momma loves you. Mom too. You know that, right?" 

"Love you too, Momma,” Zach replied with a furrow to his brows, unable to understand why everyone seemed so tense, so scared. She’d hoped he’d never know this sensation for himself. “Where’s Zephie?" 

"Zach,” his sister said, reaching out to grab his hand and hold it tight. “We’re going to see her. Okay?" 

"Okay,” he replied, just as confused as before but understanding that right then, questions couldn’t be answered. 

“Zise, keep an eye on your brother for me when we get there, okay?" 

"Yes Momma." 

She turned back to watch the road but couldn’t, the pain in her chest returning as she did her best to stem the tide of tears, clinging tight to her wife’s hand to ground her. Pain shot through her right shoulder, the phantom agony she’d thought she’d left behind returning with a vengeance and she had to grit her teeth to the point of giving herself a headache to keep from crying out. Every blink brought with it headlights and she flinched at every intersection- she hadn’t been this bad in years but in her head, all she could see was her little girl, lying in a hospital bed all alone, bandages wrapped around the remnants of her arm or leg or her head or- 

"Yang,” her wife said, bringing her focus back to the present as the car came to a stop in the brightly lit parking lot of the hospital- the same one they’d taken her after her accident. The same one she’d given birth to their three beautiful children. “If you want to go in-" 

She never heard the rest. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if she even shut the door, or completely disengaged the seatbelt- all she knew was that, three seconds after being given the go ahead, she found herself marching into the emergency room and zeroing in on the first nurse she saw. 

"Where’s my daughter?” Her voice was too loud- she knew that, she did, but she didn’t care- and before the nurse could respond, she’d reached the desk and slammed her hands on it, the right one leaving a dent. “Zephyr Summer Xiao Long Schnee, car accident, where is she?”

“Ma'am, if you could take a seat-" 

"Momma?” Her head snapped up, immediately ignoring anything further the man said and following the sound of the voice, throwing back the second curtain on a line of beds and finding her daughter sitting on it with another nurse standing beside her, swabs in hand as she clean the cuts on Zephyr’s cheek. “Momma!" 

"Oh Zephie!” She rushed forward and threw her arms around her eldest daughter, crying hard. From a glance, it seemed she had glass cuts on her face and bruises along her arms and the side of her head, but all limbs and digits were accounted for, and the nurse seemed to immediately understand Yang’s need to hold her child, slipping off elsewhere for a moment. “I was so worried- you weren’t home on time, and then we got the call and-" 

"I’m sorry, Momma, we just left the theater late, and- and then there was a deer and Verdel swerved and-" 

Suddenly, Yang remembered the boy, and at once felt anger and fear, because while she understood on some level he had no intention of losing control like he obviously had, she’d trusted him to bring her daughter home safe. "Where is he?”

“Momma, please, don’t-" 

"I’m not leaving you until Mom gets here,” she said, lips turning down at the corners. “But once she does, I’m talking to him." 

"Momma-" 

"Zephyr?” Winter rounded the corner, one of Zise’s hands clasped in hers and one of Zach’s in her other one. Relief broke over three expressions- well two, while the third seemed more excited than anything- as they rushed forward, and Yang reluctantly left her eldest with the rest of the family while stepping away to find Verdel. 

A quick glance around brought her attention to the nurse formerly attending her daughter, who seemed rather keen on escaping her notice with no such luck. 

“Where is he?" 

"Ma'am, you’re not-” her gaze hardened and, for a moment, she thought the nurse might buckle. But then she stood her ground, putting her hands on her hips. “Ma'am, I understand you’re upset, but he’s been through a lot. He doesn’t need anyone else making him feel worse." 

That gave her pause, right hand clenching into a fist. "He’s worse off, isn’t he?" 

"He is.” She sighed. “And there’s no one coming for him.” Frustration colored the nurse’s tone. “We contacted his parents but they’re…  _too busy_  to come back from their business trips." 

Yang frowned. "Where is he?" 

"Ma'am-" 

"Where. Is. Verdel?" 

The nurse must’ve seen something in her eyes, silently turning and leading her down a hall, through doors with "Intensive Care Unit” stenciled on them and to a room with monitors and a single occupant staring at the far wall. Immediately, she felt something wrap around her heart and she honestly couldn’t tell if it was horror at being back in the wing again- the sights, the sounds, the smells- or pain at seeing the young man lying in a too-big bed with heavy bandages on his left hand. Or at least, there were bandages where his hand _should’ve_ been.

Yang stepped into the room and stopped at the foot of the bed, waiting for him to turn his head and acknowledge her. Almost instantly, his expression crumbled; gone was the boy with an attitude who bucked authority. Instead, she found herself looking at the young man her daughter saw during quiet hours in the library. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, tears in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I just didn’t want to kill the deer." 

She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, walking around until she could sit at the edge of the bed. Then, she reached out and coaxed him into sitting up, wrapping her arms around his shoulders lightly, mindful of his bandages and bruises. 

"Honestly, I’m just glad you’re both alive,” she said, holding him just as she would her own son. “And I know right now it feels like you’ll never be okay again. But I’m going to tell you: you’re here. That means, one day, you  _can_  be okay again. So don’t give up." 

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, fingers digging in on one side while the other couldn’t- and never would. "My parents aren’t coming, are they?" 

"Fuck them.” She smiled at his surprised chuckle. “I’m here. And we’re going to get through this. Okay?" 

”… okay…“

* * *

 

Part XVI

Winter gripped the wheel tight, lips pressed into a thin line as she barely kept a handle on her anger. Words ricocheted around her head, a full blown lecture waiting to be unleashed, but they were almost home. Better to get to the house, where she could look her middle child in the eyes while talking to her, than attempting to converse at the moment.

Zise, of course, had other ideas. "Mom, I-”

“Don’t.” She inhaled deeply and released it, scanning the intersection before proceeding through. “We’ll talk about it when we get home.”

“But I-”

“Zise, what did I just say?” She snapped that time, grip tightening even further. Her knuckles would ache the following day but it would be a small price to pay. “We’ll wake Momma up and then talk about this-”

“You didn’t wake her up?” She shifted in the passenger seat, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why?”

“Do you have any idea the sort of panic attack your Momma would’ve had if I woke her up saying that our daughter was at the police station?” A quick glance over allowed her to see the hunch in her daughter’s shoulders. “Would I have even gotten that far? At the mention of 'police’, you know  _exactly_  where her mind would’ve gone. You were _supposed_ to be at a sleepover-”

“I just didn’t want you and Momma to worry!” Zise sat up, putting her hands out in a placating gesture. “I didn’t know anything about the alcohol or the drugs before I got there!”

“That isn’t the  _point_ , Zise!” At a stop sign, she checked the rear view, confirming they were the only vehicle on the road at this time of night. Then she turned towards her daughter. “You told us you were staying at a friend’s house when, come to find out, you weren’t. The fact you were at a party with underage drinking and drug use is a little past the point.” She paused, her anger not so great that she couldn’t recognize the silver lining. “I  _am_  proud that you didn’t imbibe though. I am. But that doesn’t erase the fact you shouldn’t have been there in the first place, and it makes me question if you would’ve ever told us if the police hadn’t shown up.”

“ _I_  was the one who called them!” She blinked, watching her daughter’s face.

“ _You_  called them?”

Zise nodded, tears gathering in her eyes. “I was gonna go to Jasper’s house, really, but then Isa texted me about this party and how there would be 'fun stuff’ there, but she wouldn’t tell me what that meant, so I got worried. I thought if I was there, then she wouldn’t do something she’d regret, b-but then the party got outta control and I didn’t see where she went and I panicked and called the cops- because some of the other kids were really drunk, and I didn’t know what to do-”

Winter reached out and put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Zise, why didn’t you tell us?”

“I didn’t want to worry you… and I thought I could handle it.” She shrugged, scrubbing at her cheeks. “I know I was wrong but I just- I just thought-”

“Zizi,” she said, waiting for Zise to look at her before smiling. She was still angry- of course she was- but she could see that her daughter had at least  _tried_  to do the right thing, albeit in her own way. “You still should’ve told us.” She paused. “Does anyone else know you were the one who called the police?”

She shook her head. “I called the anonymous tip line.”

“Then why stay?” Winter looked around, confirming they were still the only ones on the road. “The police were on their way. You could’ve left, not been arrested, and come home tomorrow with us none the wiser.”

“I still couldn’t find Isa,” her daughter replied. “I didn’t find her until the first cop car showed up, and then I didn’t want to leave until I could get her into an ambulance.”

“Is she okay?”

Zise shrugged. “I think so. I think she was just really drunk and dehydrated. The EMTs said she’d be okay.”

Winter sighed, checking the road again before resuming their journey home.

“I can’t say I approve of your methods, Zise. You should’ve told us,” she said, considerably less angry now that she had the full story. “But you did the right thing getting those kids medical attention.” With a sigh, she pulled onto their street. “And you are  _definitely_  your Momma’s daughter.”

Zise slumped in her seat. “She won’t see it that way.”

“Give her some credit.” Winter felt a small smile curl her lips. “Charging into a situation that you’re not entirely prepared for to help others, not telling others what you’re doing or where you are, nearly getting yourself in a very bad situation for someone else’s benefit… I think Momma understands that.” A pause. “But you’re still grounded pending your Momma’s input.”

Silence filled the car. “Is Momma gonna be mad you came to pick me up by yourself?”

“Yes, yes she will be.” She winced. “I’ll deal with that when it comes.”

“But how is it any different from me going to the party without telling you two?”

“Please tell me you’re going to law school.” She chuckled, pulling into the drive and wincing again at the lights on along the first story. Yang was definitely awake. “Suffice it to say, when you’ve been with someone as long as I’ve been with your Momma, you trust each other to do things, and you know when two isn’t better than one. It’s rare, but it happens.”

Parking the car in the garage, they got out and went into the house to find Yang sitting at the table, wearing her robe with a half empty cup of water sitting in front of her. Her brows furrowed, seemingly confused to see both of them walking in together.

“Everything okay?”

“It is now,” she replied, immediately taking a seat next to her wife and intertwining their hands. “Zise has something she needs to tell you.”

Winter nodded for their daughter to take a seat across from them, which she did. After a moment to gather her nerves, their middle child told the whole story- chronologically, this time- while Yang sat, expression betraying her surprise at every turn.

“So, yeah… that’s what happened.” Zise finished, then hung her head. “I’m sorry, Momma.”

“Hey, Zizi.” Yang waited until their daughter looked up. “It’s okay. Go get changed and get some sleep.”

“Am I grounded until I graduate?”

“You’re not grounded.”

“What?” Zise and Winter were both confused by the declaration, the latter more than the former. Her wife squeezed her hand before nodding.

“You know to tell us next time. You know you scared your Mom pretty bad this time. You called the proper authorities, even knowing you could get in a lot of trouble, and you came clean about it.” She frowned. “I’m disappointed you didn’t call us immediately but your Mom and I are just happy you’re safe. So go to bed. I’m sure you’ll wanna go see Isa tomorrow, yeah?” Zise nodded. “Alright. You’ll need to rest, first. Come here.”

Disentangling their hands, Yang beckoned their daughter closer, pulling her into a tight embrace. Zise hugged them both, whispering 'I love you’s into their necks before rushing up the stairs and to her room. Winter’s brows pinched together.

“You handled that better than I expected.”

“You did all the hard stuff.” A frown touched her lips. “You should’ve woken me up.”

“You would’ve worried- and you know the doctor just warned you about your cholesterol.”

Her wife sighed, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Nothing a little healthy eating won’t fix. And still no excuse.”

“After our last brush with middle-of-the-night calls, I…” she trailed off.

Their hands intertwined again. “I get it, Snowdrift. I do. And you’re probably right… I would’ve been a basket case on the drive to the station.”

“I’m surprised you let her off so easy,” she said, pressing a kiss to the back of her wife’s hand. “I thought you would’ve been  _livid_.”

Yang bit her lip, then shook her head. “She made a mistake. She’ll learn from it.” A smile curled her lips. “Didn’t you say that’s what they get from me? They’ll get hurt and come out stronger for it? Same thing here.” She sighed. “At the end of the day, our daughter put herself in a bad situation for all the right reasons. There were better ways and she knows that now. I trust she’ll do better next time.” Lilac eyes sought hers out, a twinkle of amusement in them. “That’s what they get from you. She won’t let us down. Promise.”

Winter found herself at a loss for a moment before smiling. “… you do have a point.”

“I know.” Yang winked. “Now, it’s bedtime. We’re going to the craft fair tomorrow after we visit Isa.”

Oh hell; she’d forgotten about that. “Of course.”

They got up, flicking off the lights and heading to the bedroom, still hand-in-hand.

“I love you, Sundrop.”

“Love you too, Snowdrift.” She smirked. “But you’re not getting out of the craft fair.”

Damnit. 

* * *

Part XVII

Yang cracked her neck after being prodded back to semi-wakefulness. They’d opted to watch a movie on the couch but, hardly twenty minutes in, she fell dead asleep, curled up against her wife. Winter hadn’t minded, though she was still working feeling back into her arm, and waited until long after the movie ended to wake her and suggest turning in for the night.

“Sorry I spent most of date night asleep,” she said, a yawn splitting her apology in two.

“It’s fine. You’ve been busy with exams and you deserve it.” A kiss pressed against her cheek. “Let’s just go-” She cut off as they heard their son laughing upstairs, a little surprised he was still awake. After dinner, Zach had gone to his room and they’d assumed he’d fallen asleep by now, given the late hour. Zach didn’t usually stay up- their only child to be more of a morning person while his sisters were nightowls- but it seemed more unusual for him to be rowdy. They looked at each other, her wife’s brows pinching together. “Should we talk to him?”

“He’s a teenager.” Yang shrugged. “They do weird stuff sometimes. I’ll go wish him good night and tell him to keep it down.”

Winter- with good intentions in mind- had started watching their children a little closer after the party incident. Thankfully, Zise didn’t get charged and the vast majority of the party attendees faced no direct consequences, aside from angry parents, which meant she wasn’t stopped from attending the school of her choosing. With their daughters away at college, it meant they’d had more time to spend with Zach, which they loved; he hadn’t quite grown out of showing open affection towards his parents like some of his friends, and Yang liked to think of it as 'catching up’, seeing as the first few years of his life were a particularly sore spot for her.

“Very well,” she replied, pulling her into a brief embrace. “Come get me if it’s serious.”

Yang rolled her eyes but kissed her wife all the same; she’d become more of a worrywort than ever before, but one could hardly fault her for her concerns. Not that they’d had many brushes with either police or emergency services since then- save that one time, but Zach had sworn off chemistry experiments at home after it- yet she still checked up on their kids a bit more than was entirely warranted.

Heading up the stairs, she waited for Winter to enter the master bedroom before knocking on Zach’s door, hearing a muffled 'come in’ and cracking it open.

“Hey, buddy,” she said, waiting for a moment as her son maneuvered his character somewhere safe.

She didn’t quite understand the game aside from being very creative- some of the things Zach had done blew her mind, truly- but Yang had been enough of a gamer back in the day to wait patiently for him to reach a stopping point. He pulled his headset down to around his neck, looking back at her with those eyes that she swore looked blue in the right light while her wife insisted they were just a lighter shade of lilac.

“Hey, Momma. What’s up? Was I being too loud?”

“A little… but do you have a minute?” At his nod, she entered the room and plopped down on his bed, seeing as she damn sure didn’t want to sink into the extra gamer chair he had sitting off to the side; the thing was too damn comfortable and she’d fall right back asleep, if she didn’t kill herself trying to get out of the damn thing. “Everything going okay?”

“Uh, yeah!” He smiled but it looked a little strained, like he was trying not to make it so wide. “Just great! I, uh, heard back from the zoo today. I got the job.”

“That’s great to hear,” she said, beaming at him. “You looking forward to your first foray into the world of employment?”

“Yeah! I mean, spending money, who doesn’t like that?”

She narrowed her eyes. He was downplaying it and trying to avoid admitting that this summer job meant a lot to him. “Think you’ll enjoy it?”

“Well, I mean, yeah, aside from the whole 'working’ thing, right?” He shrugged. “It’s just a job.”

“Zachariah, don’t lie to your Momma.” She leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee and using her stump to gesture towards the door. “Ever since Mom and I took you and your sisters to the zoo when you were six, you’ve wanted to do something with animals. A vet, a researcher, a conservationist- whatever branch didn’t matter as long as it lead back to animals. For your first job, this is pretty close to the dream, right?”

Her son ducked his head, trying to hide that goofy grin. “Yeah, I mean… basically.” A shrug. “I’m really excited about it.”

Yang frowned. “Really? 'Cause you seem like you’re trying very hard not to be.”

She watched as he contemplated his controller- which typically meant he was trying to politely ask to return to his game. Except, he didn’t pick it up, instead scratching at his jaw, where peach fuzz was just starting to come in, making him look so much like his Grandpa it hurt sometimes.

“Zach?”

“I don’t want you to be ashamed,” he said, the words so fast Yang almost couldn’t parse them.

“… what?” She spread her hands. “What’s there to be ashamed about, Zach?”

He glanced at her before staring down at his jeans, picking at invisible specks- something he picked up from his Mom.

“Ever since we were kids, Zephyr and Zise knew what they were going to do- we all did. Zephie’s the doctor, Zizi’s the lawyer, but I’m…” He pointedly kept his gaze averted. “I just wanna be a zookeeper.”

Silence stretched between them, the game’s music softly playing from his headset.

“Am I… missing something?” She cocked her head to the side. “Zach, we’ve kinda figured out you wanna work at the zoo. I mean, it’s hard seeing you doing anything else!”

“Is it 'cause I’m not smart enough?” The question genuinely blindsided Yang, jaw falling slack even as the words continued to tumble from his mouth. “I know I don’t have the best grades but- but I try, ya know? I’m not doctor level or lawyer level-”

“Whoa, hold up, time out,” she said, finally catching onto what had her son so upset, though he was trying his hardest to remain strong. Yang got off the bed and went over to him, lowering herself to the ground and throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Zach, look at me.” Slowly, he turned his gaze her way, but mostly watched her from the corner of his eye. “You can be whatever you want to be. It doesn’t matter if you’re not 'smart enough’ or 'strong enough’,” she said, putting emphasis on the subjective words. “You’ve got that kinda work ethic that’s worth so much more. If you’d ever expressed an interest in medical or law school, your Mom and I would support you fully. We never meant to imply you could  _just_  be a zookeeper.”

“I know,” he replied with a sigh. “I mean… I don’t _want_ to do anything else. I love animals and I wanna work with them for the rest of my life, however I can!” The genuine bit of joy in his voice at that declaration died out as his expression fell. “But… I also know how it sounds. My sisters really live up to the Schnee name and I… don’t.”

“Do  _not_  let your Mom hear you say that, or your Aunt for that matter.” She tried to keep her tone light but she was very aware of her wife’s thoughts on the 'family legacy’. “Both of them- and the rest of us, for that matter- just want to see you doing what you love to do. We don’t care about how many letters come after your name or before it. Just that you’re happy.”

“… really?” He looked at her fully then. “I love my sisters, I do, but it’s just so…  _hard_ sometimes, measuring myself up against them-”

“Hey, hey, that’s not fair.” Yang squeezed his shoulder. “You three are very different individuals; there’s no competition between you three.” She frowned. “Has Zephie or Zizi made you feel like that?”

“… no.” He admitted with a little chagrin.

“Okay.” She looked at Zach, weighing her options. “Buddy, I know we’ve never told you this… but before you were born, Mom was in the military.” A quick look urged him to remain silent; of course they knew of Winter’s service, but not all the details. “Mom…  _loved_  the military. Even the parts she claimed to hate; your Mom was a soldier, through and through, and she lived and breathed it. But then she met me, and we got married. That’s when things changed.” She paused. “She was gone a lot. She didn’t want to be, but she missed out on a lot with Zephyr and Zise, and when I was pregnant with you, she decided she didn’t want to do that anymore.” Yang remembered those far off days- over fifteen years ago, how the time had flown- but pressed on regardless of the bittersweet memories. “She gave up the military to be a good Mom to you and your sisters and she never regretted it… but sometimes,  _I_  did.”

“What?” Zach blinked. “Why?”

“Because it was something Mom loved, and she stopped doing it. For a while, I thought if I’d been stronger, given her less chances to worry, she would’ve stayed in.” She sighed. “I would’ve supported her either way. I meant it then and now; I love her and would do anything to see her happy.” She raised her stump. “After my accident, it got _much_ worse. I felt like I wasn’t good enough. I almost quit. But I had you, and your sisters, and Mom.” Yang smiled at him. “I’m bringing up all this to tell you: the only way we got through all that was by supporting one another, in big ways and small, and I don’t want any of you going through life having to leave behind something you love for any reason other than  _you_  want to. It took me a while to realize that Mom left because she really didn’t want to be away from us anymore and there was nothing I could’ve done to change her mind." A shrug. "So, you wanna be a zookeeper today, and in five years an astronaut, and five years after that a crab fisherman? You have my full support. As long as you’re safe and happy, you can do whatever the hell you want.” She leaned forward, resting their foreheads together. “I’m always in your corner. Mom, too. And you better know Zephie and Zizi will brag to everyone about you, no matter what you do.”

Zach smiled- a real smile, the one he’d been holding back all this time. “Even if I just wanna clean out the elephant habitat every day?”

“You’ll be the stinkiest stinker in the family, and we’ll love you for it.” He threw his arms around her.

“Thanks, Momma.” She returned the embrace as best she could.

“No problem, kiddo. Now, I’m gonna head to bed. Try to keep it down, okay?” Yang released her son, only to groan as she pushed herself to her feet. Several pops that probably shouldn’t have popped made her wince. “Ugh, if I make it that far. Can I crash here tonight?”

“My bed isn’t big enough for you _and_ Mom.”

“Who said she’s invited?” As Yang got up, she stumbled towards the door, massaging a stitch in her side. “Good night, Zach. Don’t stay up too late.”

“Okay.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too, Momma.” Yang made her way to the bedroom, happy to see Winter had both changed into her pajamas and laid some out for her, a book in hand and her reading glasses on as she waited.

Now pushing fifty, her wife’s eyesight had started declining, but she still looked every bit as beautiful as the day they’d met, just seasoned by experience, laugh lines etched into her face and a scar from that fiasco with the lawnmower a few months back still healing along her arm.

“Hey, call me crazy, but I don’t think you’ve heard this one before,” she said, bypassing the pajamas for a moment to sit on the bed beside her wife, who watched her with a bemused expression. “I love you.”

Immediately, she chuckled. “Such unfamiliar words. Can you teach me how to utter this strange phrase?”

“Oh, I can teach you a thing or two about love, Snowdrift.” She scooted closer. “C'mere, you.”

It wasn’t the fervent makeout they’d enjoyed when they started dating or the deeper, slower embraces those early exchanges evolved into; instead, it was more holding each other, trading kisses lightly, and just… existing.

She would tell Winter about her conversation with Zach later. For now, she just wanted to indulge in the woman who supported her when she least felt like she deserved it. 

* * *

Part XVIII

Winter watched as her wife shuffled around the room, relieved to finally be out of her fancier dress pants and content to walk around on her nice button up and underwear. When she felt ready, she’d ask for help, and it’d become a point of pride to assist her wife in such tasks, because she stood to date as the only person allowed to offer assistance in such matters, much less be sought out for that assistance.

For the moment, though, she let the reality sink in, slowly. They’d been through this twice already but she knew her wife, knew that sag to her shoulders, and when Yang turned towards her, she had a warm smile ready.

“Snowdrift?” Her lip trembled. “Our baby boy’s all grown up.”

“He graduated high school, Sundrop. He’s hardly 'grown up’,” she replied, opening her arms and welcoming the hurried embrace, fingers clutching at her shirt. “He’s still our baby boy.”

“It’s not the same.” Her gaze drifted off to the side, towards the bedroom door and the hallway beyond. “He’s going off to college in a few months.”

“And we’ll make sure he has a wonderful final summer before leaving the nest, and he’ll always be welcomed back, the same as Zephyr and Zise-”

“You mean our daughters, one of whom is getting married?” Winter chuckled, rubbing her hands along her wife’s back in soothing motions.

“Verdel asked our blessing. You could’ve said no.”

“Like I would crush Zephie like that.” She sighed. “I’m gonna miss him. It’s going to be so quiet with him off at college.” A sniffle. “I miss all of them.”

“And there’s not a day that goes by where we’re not on their minds, the same way they’re on ours.” Drawing back, she coaxed her wife into meeting her eyes. “If you want, we could call them up and tell them they have to come back home. I could go dig out their matching onesies… though they might be too small nowadays.”

“Very funny.” Yang smiled, though a sigh swiftly followed. “I just… I dunno. I’m thinking back on all the times we had together as a family in this house and I… want that back.”

“We haven’t lost it,” Winter said, carefully swaying her hips and pulling her wife into a dance to a nonexistent beat. “We still have the house and our memories. Until we go senile, anyway.”

“Don’t joke.” Yang sighed, swaying with her and smiling. “I’m not sure how I’m going to keep sane without the kids here.”

Judging now to be as good a time as any, she put forth a suggestion on that front. “What if we’re not here as often?” Her wife raised a brow. “When we first started dating, you told me you wanted to travel all of Remnant.”

“Who doesn’t at that age?” She chuckled. “ _You_  actually did it.”

“What if I did it again, but with less bullets and more you?” Tongue darting out to lick her lips, she tried to word her request just right. “I know you’ve still got your classes to consider, but how about a vacation or two after Zach leaves for college? We could go to Mistral, Menagerie, visit Blake and Weiss or Ruby and Sun- we could sail for a week and get off somewhere new. Let’s go on an adventure.”

“I thought that was more of a retirement thing?” Yang’s tone implied a lighthearted comment… but darkness lurked in her eyes. “You really want an early start? Think your back can take it?”

She smiled, having put the pain at the back of her mind during the day’s events. Too long carrying too much too far had come back to bite her, but the medicines helped. “I’ll be fine. And why not now? Why wait?”

Her wife seemed to mull the offer over a little before nodding. “Okay. Where should we go first?”

“You always wanted to visit Haven.”

“You think your old barracks are still standing?” She laughed, shaking her head.

“No, but I could show you around anyway. It would be nice.” Her head tilted as memories came flooding back. “I used to daydream about the places I’d take you, were you to visit. Before my transfer to Atlas, of course.”

“Oh? You never told me this.” Their dance came to a stand still, lilac eyes dancing with mirth. “You used to daydream about me?”

“Yes, and night dream, but those were a bit more… risqué.” Yang laughed, drawing her into a sweet kiss.

“So here’s the plan. We spend this summer helping Zach prepare for college. I’ll take the first two months of semester off. And then…” a wicked smile came to her lips “… we’ll spend a little bit making  _all_  your dreams come true.”

“Oh, my precious Sundrop,” she said with a chuckle, gazing lovingly into her wife’s eyes. “They already have. But a repeat is always appreciated.”

“Hmmm, let’s see just how prepared we are for any encores.” Yang winked. “Take off my shirt?”

“Gladly.” Despite having surpassed the fifty year mark herself while her wife neared it, Winter found she still had more than enough energy and amorous inclination to indulge, seeing as Zach wouldn’t return from the graduation party until the next morning. They might as well enjoy themselves… while they could. 


	4. Parts 19-25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't expect many, if any, to finish reading this. So allow me to say here: this was written in vignettes on the Elderburnin' Discord server, hence the unpredictability in the length of the parts and their contents. It was a wonderful exploration of a different writing style and very much off the cuff but came together rather well. Thus far, it's been a rollercoaster, and that's true of this chapter, too, so while I don't imagine anyone 'enjoys' this story in the same vein as my others, I do hope that this journey has given you something to think about. If you reach the end, you'll find out why I wrote all this in the first place.

Part XIX

Yang held her breath, on the verge of tears but doing her level best to keep them at bay. Just past three in the morning, she stood in the cramped hospital room with her heart beating wildly in her chest and a proud smile on her lips, watching as their eldest daughter carefully brushed her fingertips along their first grandchild’s face. 

“She’s beautiful,” Zephyr whispered, shifting slightly so her husband could see. “She has your cheeks." 

"I’m not so sure about that,” Verdel replied, and she could sympathize; Schnee genes ran strong, and for all of Winter’s talk about how much their daughters would take after Yang, they looked every bit the spitting image of their Mom, though with a little more width to their shoulders and hips. A good thing, too; Zephyr had hardly spent any time in labor and looked a good deal better than _she_ had after having the now new mother. “But she is beautiful." Zephyr hummed, eyes drooping shut for a moment, something he seemed to notice, too. "Hey, Momma? You wanna hold her?" 

A slight frown touched her lips briefly but she quickly flashed a smile. "Sure, Son.”

She exchanged a glance with Winter- still too emotional over their first grandbaby to really register the oddity of the request- and they stepped closer together. Mainly because Yang had started worrying about her wife’s balance recently; after their last ski trip, she’d noticed Winter had a bit more trouble remaining solid on her feet. The doctor assured it wasn’t anything serious, just the result of a rough tumble, but she didn’t quite believe that. Then again, she wasn’t moving around so good herself, though she hid it well enough as they both shuffled over to Zephyr’s bedside. Yang reached out, taking the baby from her daughter’s arms. Hardly eight pounds, such a tiny little thing, but she remembered when the exhausted woman in the hospital bed was about the same size. 

“Winter, look,” she said, cooing even as she tapped a setting on her arm, adding a very low vibration that simulated both a heartbeat and circulation in her prosthetic. “Ever seen anyone so little and so precious?" 

 "It’s been about twenty years,” Winter replied, leaning against her shoulder to look down at their grandchild. “She’s going to grow up like her mother and Momma before her.”

“Yeah, she will,” Yang said, watching Verdel fuss over Zephyr for a moment. It reminded her so much of the few memories she had of Winter hovering around her, ready to chase off any unwanted visitors and bending over backwards to make her comfortable. “If you’re lucky, she’ll be like you and Zizi.”

“Don’t joke.” Zephyr gave a tired chuckle. “You’ll give her ideas. I’m a doctor, not a lawyer; I can’t keep up.”

“You’ll find ways, trust me,” Winter replied, leaning over to kiss their daughter’s forehead. “You did amazing, Zephie. Should I go get the others?”

She nodded. “I might look like I just finished a twenty four… but I can’t wait for her to meet them.”

“You gonna be okay?” Yang’s brows furrowed as her wife started for the door.

“I’ll be fine,” Winter replied with a cheeky grin. “It’s just down the hall.”

As the newborn began to squirm, her attention refocused on the little one. “Have you two thought of a name?”

“Wisteria,” Verdel said, with a little grin.

“She told you about that, huh?” Yang chuckled. “It’s a good name.”

“It is.” She looked down at the baby, a bittersweet pang in her chest; she already loved this little one just as much as her own children. However, she’d held Wisteria longer than she probably should’ve, and Zephyr was drifting in and out of consciousness. “Ready to have her back, V?”

She nodded down towards the baby. Almost immediately, his expression changed to one of concern as he drew back, hiding his left hand away. “Uh, Zizi and Zach should be here in a minute, I’m sure they’ll want to hold her.”

Ah, so that’s it.

“They will. But she’s your daughter.” Yang walked around the hospital bed, using a severe look to pin him in place. “You or Zephie should be holding her when they come in, and she’s a bit out of it.”

He swallowed, hard. “But… what if I-”

“You won’t,” she said, offering up the precious little bundle. “You’re her father and you love her.” As he hesitantly reached towards Wisteria, the hospital lights glinting off his own prosthetic hand, she gently smiled. “You won’t hurt her. She already knows that. Believe me- she’s going to be Daddy’s girl.” Wisteria began to fuss and Verdel drew back at first, though clearing her throat seemed to encourage him. As he took the infant into his arms, Wisteria quieted down, though she did seem to squirm. “See? You better be careful, V. She’s going to be your shadow for the next twenty years, just watch.”

He didn’t hear her. His entire focus was consumed by the sweet little angel in his arms.

Yang looked over to see Zephyr’s tired but proud smile. “I did pretty good. Huh, Momma?”

“Just like I knew you would.” She smiled. “Now you’ve got a little family of your own.” She reached out with her left hand to grab her daughter’s, squeezing lightly. “Be half the woman your mother was and you’ll be brilliant.”

Zephyr laughed. “That’s what Mom says about you.” She paused. “And either way, that’s a high bar.”

“You can make it.” Verdel looked up. “ _We_  can. Right?”

“Right,” Yang replied.

“Make way, best Aunt coming through-”

“And best Uncle!”

“Zizi, Zach, keep your voices down, we’re in a hospital.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Don’t sass your mom, Babe.”

“Don’t suck up to my mom, Sweetheart.”

“Zizi, language!”

“Oh come on!”

Yang rolled her eyes as her wife and kids returned, with their own partners in tow, only to put a hand to her forehead as a rather irate fellow grandmother came in, pointing out how she was  _clearly_  the best Aunt, hands down, with Blake watching in amusement as her wife began fussing over her niece and nephew. Meanwhile, Yang stole a glance back at the new parents, at Wisteria wrapping a tiny hand around Verdel’s prosthetic finger. Winter came back to her side, putting an arm around her shoulders as the shenanigans began in earnest, only one thought on her mind.

They did pretty good. 

* * *

Part XX

Winter sighed heavily in relief as she sank into the back seat, allowing her eyes to close for a brief moment. Mentally, she acknowledged she’d gotten much too old for these red eye flights, her back complaining rather insistently despite the comfort in first class seats. However, all that fell away at the little whine from the car seat next to her, and she smiled across the car to her wife’s pinched expression.

“Oh, hush little Xavier, it’s okay.” Yang reached into the car seat to soothe the toddler, voice soft. “We’re all done now. Don’t cry.”

“He’ll be fine once we start moving,” Zach said from the front seat, slipping his seatbelt on and preparing to pull away from the terminal. “Sorry about that, by the way; my sitter bailed on me and I didn’t want to wake up Zephyr or Verdel.”

“Are Zise and Taylor-”

“Oh, right, they probably didn’t tell you; Yvonne came down with a cold a few days ago. They’re both fretting over her.”

Winter looked back towards Yang as the car started moving, the two exchanging a knowing smile. “Sounds familiar.”

Zach smirked at them in the rear view. “You taught us well, Mom.”

“Your Momma was the one fretting most of the time.”

“I remember it a little differently,” Yang said, offering the pacifier to their youngest grandchild. From one to five with a sixth on the way, they’d still not gotten over the immense pride and swell of affection that came with every little coo their grandchildren gave. “Have you heard anything else from Marigold?”

“Momma,” Zach replied with a weary sigh. “She’s not coming back.”

“Maybe she’s just-”

“Momma.” His lips turned down at the corners. “She officially relinquished custody today. She’s not coming back.”

Winter leaned forward, reaching out to lay a hand on her son’s shoulder. “Zach-”

“I’m fine,” he replied, flashing a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes- an expression his grandpa had worn all too often. “I mean… it hurts. But now I know she’s not going to make Xavier’s life one of choosing between us. And it’s not like he’s lacking for strong, motherly role models.”

“Still, son. It must be difficult for you.” She squeezed his shoulder. “If you need anything, just let us know.”

Zach laughed. “What, and stop your world wide tour? I can’t deprive Remnant of your visits; that’d be selfish.”

“Well, I’m afraid we’ve beat you to it,” Yang said with a grin. “We’re going back to being home bodies.”

“Missing the inside of your classroom?” Zach chuckled.

“I’m retiring, actually,” she said, looking down at Xavier and smiling as the toddler fell back asleep thanks to the rocking motion of the car ride.

“What? Since when?”

Winter bit her tongue lightly, leaning back into her seat.

“I’ve used up all my vacation days and I’ve seen all Remnant has to offer with the most beautiful woman beside me,” her wife replied with a soft laugh. “I think it’s time to just be Grandma for a bit.”

“Like you can ever be  _just_  anything.” Their son laughed, pulling off the highway towards his own neighborhood. They’d all agreed that spending the night with Zach and Xavier would be best; their house sat on the other side of town, at least another thirty minutes away, and given the early hour, they’d rather not. Plus, finding out their grandson needed someone to watch him the following day certainly made the decision easier. “You’re going to get restless.”

“Yeah, but maybe Taylor needs help with that boat of theirs,” Yang replied with a shrug. “Besides, free babysitters. It’ll be good to be around the grandkids more.”

Winter looked out through the window at the predawn neighborhood, the barest hints of people rousing for those early mornings- some for work, others for school. Together, they’d seen what felt like all of Remnant in various states but she remembered most fondly their own home in such hours, tending to their children. She could look forward to similar instances looking after their grandchildren, at least.

“Hey, do you want to bring Xavier up to the zoo tomorrow?”

“We could do that,” Yang said with a smile. “You cleaning out the elephant enclosure?”

She raised a brow in curiosity; last they’d been told, Zach worked almost exclusively with the big cats.

“Actually, we just opened up the snow leopard habitat, and I have a sneaking suspicion they might be Xav’s favorites.” Their son chuckled. “You should see how he reacts when he sees one.”

“We look forward to it.”

Silence filled the car for a moment before Zach broke it. “Mom? You okay?”

“Of course,” she replied.

“You’re really quiet.”

“I’m tired.” Shifting, a sigh passed her lips. “I’m not a fan of early mornings anymore.”

“That’s an understatement.” Her wife teased, though something flashed in her eyes- sympathy, and a testament to how much stronger Yang was to hide her own exhaustion so well. “A nap and we’ll be fine.”

Winter held her peace as they arrived at Zach’s house, getting out of the car with a quiet groan. They only brought in a couple bags, with Zach doing most of the heavy lifting while Winter grabbed their carry on and Yang carried Xavier. He started to fuss only a little before being put to bed in his crib while Winter unpacked their essentials from the bag, Zach wishing them a good night before retiring to his own room for a small nap before work.

When Yang entered the guest room, her wife quickly detached her prosthetic with a whimper and a sigh. Then, she approached, reaching up to message away the tight muscles in her wife’s shoulders.

“Have you thought more about switching to the lighter prosthetic?” She ventured, softly.

“I dunno.” Yang sighed. “I think I might just go without.”

“Are you sure?” It wasn’t a decision to make lightly. Despite the fact they couldn’t do all the things they had when they were younger, opting to not use the prosthetic meant more stress and strain on her other arm. Considering the discomfort the last trip had brought with it for both of them- going up north had _not_ done them any favors- the end of their vacationing days wasn’t so bad but focusing on spending time with their grandkids… Winter worried about what the future might bring. “The lighter version-”

“Snowdrift.” Yang’s shoulders fell. “I’m tired and so are you.”

She watched her wife’s expression for a moment before nodding. “Let’s go to bed. We’ll talk about it in the morning.” Winter helped Yang get dressed, both of them getting under the covers and cuddling up the same as they’d done for nearly forty five years. “Good night, Sundrop.” She pressed a kiss against her wife’s shoulder. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Yang turned her head, kissing her good night, and they both fell into a sweet slumber born of exhaustion. 

* * *

Part XXI

Yang furrowed her brows, frowning down at the wrapped box. It was too big to grab with only one arm, even with her stump to brace, and frustratingly enough… too heavy. She’d already tried hefting it onto her shoulder to no avail, leaving her standing in the study alone with a big present for the six grandkids still sleeping soundly throughout the house. She’d thought she could sneak out, get the presents under the tree in the dead of night, and back in bed without anyone being the wiser, just like the old days.

“Now what?”

“You ask for help.”

Yang blinked, looking back to the study door and finding her wife there, leaning against the doorframe. She tried making it look easy but, seeing as her cane was nowhere in sight, obviously needed the support.

“You should be asleep, Snowdrift.”

“Without you? Perish the thought.” She shuffled into the room, nodding towards the present. “I’ll grab that.”

“It’s heavy.” Zach and Taylor had helped load it up and bring it in, but they were asleep like everyone else.

“It can’t be  _that_  heavy,” her wife said, bending down to try lifting it up. After about a minute of trying, filling the room with grunts and groans while Yang watched with a hand on her hip, Winter straightened up and panted. “How did we even _buy_ this?”

“Home delivery, remember?” She chuckled, though she sympathized with the furrow to her wife’s brows.

“Maybe if we both try?”

“Let’s find out.” They both bent down, struggling to just get it off the ground, but Yang didn’t have the strength she used to and Winter’s back was giving her more trouble now than it had before, and they both silently agreed to set it down between Yang’s reddened face and Winter’s wince.

“Okay.” Her wife puffed out a breath. “ _Now_  what?”

“ _You ask for help_.” They both turned to see Zise standing in the doorway now, hands on her hips and frowning at them. “Only you two would have a house full of people and  _still_  try to do things yourselves.”

“You should be asleep,” Winter said, with enough of a gleam to her eyes for Yang to find amusement.

“Uh, this is  _my_  house; you can’t give me a bedtime in my own house!” Their middle daughter made a motion down the hallway before stepping into the room, rolling up the sleeves of her robe. “What did you two even buy that’s  _this_  heavy?”

“This is a present from Santa.” Winter shrugged, leaning back against a wall as Taylor entered the study. “He made them a special present.”

Just before her spouse knelt down to assist with picking up the gift, Zise stood straight up and rounded on her mom. “Don’t tell me you two got those robopets-”

“You got them  _robopets_?” Zach whispered as he ducked into the room, his gaze shifting away from Winter to look at his sister. “By the way, you’re being way too loud.”

“I am not-”

“Yes, you are,” Zephyr said, Verdel right behind her.

“She’s not usually this cranky,” Taylor said apologetically, though they had a mischievous look on their face.

“Yes she is,” everyone else in the room replied, quiet laughter following as Zise rolled her eyes.

“Would you three get over here and help us instead of being smartasses?”

Yang stepped back, allowing the five to crowd around the present- which was, in fact, a set of robopets, six little mechanical dragons waiting to be activated the following morning. Her wife seemed equally amused by their children’s lighthearted squabbling combined with spouses’ gentle ribbing until they had the present lifted up. And that’s when they heard the squeak of a door opening elsewhere in the house- which, with all the adults in the room currently, could only mean one thing.

“I got this,” Yang said with a smirk, quickly heading for the door and ignoring the way her right hip made each step a bit shorter than in past years, nearly breaking her expression, but she manage to plaster on a tired smile as she slipped out of the room. A few steps down the hall, she made the turn towards the stairs and got halfway up before she could see the sliver of light against the far wall up ahead. On the landing, she saw Wisteria leading her little brother out of their bedroom, both freezing at being confronted.

“Grandma!” Wisteria kept her voice down, making a quick motion with her hand. “Grandma, did you hear Santa, too?”

“I did!” She knelt down by the two, immediately regretting it but resolving to deal with it later. “I had a little talk with him.”

Wisteria’s eyes lit up as Walter clapped his hands together. “Santa!”

She nodded. “Yup. He said you two were really good this year, but you still need to be good, and that means going back to bed. It’s still too early to go downstairs.”

“But Grandma!” Wisteria pouted, gaze drifting over Yang’s shoulder. “Grandmom, please!”

“Oh no, that’s not going to work.” Winter chuckled. “You heard Grandma.”

“See?” She smiled. “Go back to bed, you two. Morning will be here soon enough.”

Although not happy about it, Wisteria and Walter turned around and went back into the guest bedroom, sharing the space with Xavier- still sitting in his bed, wide awake but wise enough not to leave the room before Dad came to get him- while their cousins slept in another room down the hall. Winter gave her a hand, helping her back to her feet, and sending a warning look further down the hall that was followed by the quiet ‘click’ of a door closing. Alone in the hallway and mere hours away from the children being impossible to contain, they exchanged a look.

In the weak light, Yang saw amusement twinkling in blue eyes and a touch of sadness as she likely remembered a Christmas Eve now decades past. The same night played again in her own mind, the memory still so crisp- she sometimes forgot where her keys were or that they moved the local supermarket down a block, but she remembered the best Christmas present she’d ever received in the form of her wife grabbing her in the dead of night to fulfill a promise to their daughter.

They hardly looked like they did then- she couldn’t wear her prosthetic anymore and her blonde locks had lost their color completely about five years ago, the slow process of turning white as her wife’s taking nearly two decades.

For a moment, she was lost in a memory.

But then she was slumped against her wife, blinking her vision clear. “Huh?”

“Sundrop? Can you hear me?” The worry in Winter’s voice brought her gaze up to see her wife’s expression, pinched together as she struggled to keep the woman on her feet. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” She drew in a breath, noting the ache in her chest and fuzziness in her head. “Got lightheaded when I stood up. Nothing to worry about.” Nothing changed in those blue eyes. “I’m okay, Snowdrift.” She coughed a few times and shook her head, feeling much better after a moment to gather her bearings. “Let’s go make sure the gifts are all placed, and then lay down. It’s going to be a long day.”

“Yang,” she said, voice hard as steel though a warble existed at the edges. “That’s the third time this month.”

“And the doc told you to use your cane.” She shot back, though she relented quick enough. “I’ll make an appointment. If it happens again, we’ll go to the emergency room. Okay?” Reaching out, she rubbed her wife’s arm. “It’s Christmas, Snowdrift. Let’s enjoy it.”

“Very well,” she replied, likely only relenting because she truly  _did_  need her cane nowadays. “But if you breathe one word of me walking around without my cane to Weiss, I’m telling Ruby about these spells of yours. It’s hard enough getting her to take her heart medication without me setting a poor example.”

“Deal.” They exchanged a kiss and started towards the stairs, helping each other down. In a few short hours, the house would be alive with squealing children, and eventually with two more clans as their sisters’ families joined the fray, and Yang felt her heart ache for all the love filling it. 

* * *

Part XXII

Winter sat with the weight of the world on her shoulders, the arm chair comfortable but unable to make her feel any semblance of ease. They’d known this day was coming for years but that didn’t make the reality any easier to cope with, especially with the steady beeping of the EKG occasionally deviating, and with each stall, she felt her own heart stop and start again. The doctors had come and gone but they hadn’t broken the silence yet. Winter for fear of what would be said; Yang because she’d been staring out the window and lost in thought the whole time.

Finally, she spoke. “Im sorry, Snowdrift." 

She winced, chin falling with her shoulders. For the past few years, her wife’s heart had started to fail. She’d always had problems with her cholesterol, and their trips around Remnant meant being a bit more lax in her diet, but when they’d returned… she hadn’t gone back to it. Yang continued eating whatever struck her fancy. It made sense- she’d always had a hearty appetite- but those little cheats caught up. When the dizzy spells continued, she went to the doctor as promised, and that’s when they learned- her heart wasn’t getting enough blood. She tried changing her diet then but the damage had been done and her first heart attack came hardly a year ago. Medication didn’t seem to help and knowing her father had passed under similar circumstances… Yang always had the largest heart, loving everyone freely… the irony didn’t escape her and she cursed it all the same.

But she didn’t give up just yet. 

"A heart transplant-" 

"Snowdrift,” she said with a small smile. “I’m seventy four. I’ve lived a good life.” The corners of her mouth turned down. “If I could, I’d stay with you and the kids and grandkids forever. But we know that’s not possible. I can’t take twenty years from someone else just to try for that century mark myself.”

Her throats constricted as she forced herself to her feet, using her cane to hobble over to her wife’s bedside. She slipped her hand into Yang’s, squeezing lightly. She understood the logic- of course she did- but she wanted to be selfish. “They’ve got those prosthetic hearts now-" 

"I don’t qualify.” She frowned. “You know that." 

"If there’s one person on this planet who can change reality with just words, it’s me,” she said, feeling the tears stinging at her eyes. “But I won’t change your mind." 

"No,” her wife said with a deep sigh and a wince, clinging tight to the hand in hers. Once, it would’ve been strong enough to crack Winter’s knuckles, but now it didn’t even draw a little pain. “I love you, Snowdrift." 

"I love you, too, Sundrop.” She leaned over and pressed a kiss to Yang’s lips. “I’ll get the doctor and call the kids.”

Winter marshaled her strength and turned towards the door, pulling out her scroll and calling Zephyr first. Then Zise, then Zach, and each promised they’d be there as soon as they could, though the speed with which they showed up was telling; she wouldn’t be surprised if they’d taken up residence in the hospital’s cafe after she’d told them of Yang’s hospitalization. The conversation with the doctors, though, was more taxing, though they tried to be compassionate with the questions and paperwork. Winter felt a lead weight drop into her stomach as her wife signed the paper and it soured when she put her own name beneath it.

“Mom?” Zephyr’s brows pinched together while Verdel immediately went to Yang’s bedside. “Are you sure we can’t talk her out of it?" 

"You know your Momma,” she said, her voice weak. “Once she sets her mind to something… there’s no changing it." 

Her eldest daughter nodded, taking a deep breath to stave off the tears before joining her husband. Zise, Taylor, and Zach joined them, while the grandkids were all spending the night with friends. That was probably for the best; better that they remember Grandma with a smiling face than with machines hooked into her. Winter called Ruby and Weiss, too. They wouldn’t be able to make it in time but she did turn the video so Yang could see, weak smiles and tear filled words exchanged before her wife’s breathing became heavy. The emotional stress took its toll and Winter watched as the EKG became erratic- not a heart attack, not yet, but not exactly better as it lost its rhythm once or twice and her breath became suddenly short. 

"Ma'am,” the doctor said, a softness in his tone. “It’s time.” Winter nodded and leaned close again, kissing Yang’s cheek. “I love you." 

Her wife offered a weak smile but her breathing wasn’t improving. Lilac eyes eventually shifted to their children. "You guys… don’t need to… see this…” she paused, trying to muster her strength. “I love you… all so much…" 

"We love you too, Momma,” they replied- all five of them, because she and Yang had always accepted Taylor and Verdel as their children, too- and they shuffled out with some reluctance, throwing one last glance towards the bed. 

“Ma'am.” A nurse touched her shoulder. “You may want to step out as well.”

Winter drew herself to her full height, tilted her chin up, and proudly responded. "I said 'until death do us part’ and I meant it.“ She looked at her wife, who’s eyes still shone with love after all these years. "I’m not leaving you.”

To some extent, she felt this was the way things _should_ be, for all the times she left Yang and her family behind to go into a warzone, it should be her being left behind at the end. She tried telling herself it was only fair.

Yang let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry-" 

"Don’t be,” she said, offering a small smile. “Just be there waiting for me." 

"Don’t… rush." 

Her wife’s eyes fell closed as the EKG’s reading began deviating wildly, and Winter looked at the doctor pleadingly. When the doctor reached over and adjusted a hanging bag, Yang’s expression smoothed out… but the EKG became worse. Winter stood at her bedside and waited, a sentry watching her beloved pass from this world into the next, and when the line became flat and the doctor read out the early morning hour, Winter instinctively reached out and grabbed Yang’s hand before they drew the sheet over her. 

It was when she felt no squeeze, felt nothing at all, that it hit her, completely winded her- that she’d just lost her best friend and partner for over fifty years. 

Yang was gone. 

In that moment, she shattered. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she became aware that her children were around her, holding her up where her own legs couldn’t as she cried, no words to accompany the anguish. Because in her mind- her heart and soul- all she could see was the snapshots of her life, and the smiling face of her wife accompanying so many of them- and scowling and sad and every emotion known to exist because they’d been through so much together… 

And that part of her life had come to an end.

Eventually, she turned unseeing eyes to the heavens, and she silently promised that she would make Yang proud. If she had even half the strength and composure of her beloved, she would be able to pick herself up and devote her remaining years to their family, just like all those lonely nights when Yang had held down the home front for her. 

But when she eventually returned to their house alone- though Zise accompanied her, and some part of her knew their kids wouldn’t leave her to be entirely alone for a while- and climbed into their bed alone, only then did she realize how daunting a task it was, and in that moment she worried she didn’t truly cherish her wife. 

"Goodnight, my strong Sundrop,” she said to the empty room. “I love you… and I already miss you  _so_  much.” 

* * *

Part XXIII

The house was dead silent, a cool night in late fall, disturbed only by the ringing of a scroll. Groggily, Zephyr reached out and grabbed it, answering in a slurred tone. But the moment she heard the other voice on the line, she snapped awake. 

“Yes, speaking." 

"Ma'am, we’re calling regarding your mother-" 

"Which hospital?” Perhaps it sounded callous to the uninitiated but Zephyr was old enough to understand that some things eventually happened. And, honestly, five years had passed since Momma did; every day, she woke up thinking it would be the one. Beside her, Verdel sat up and began attaching his prosthetic, having woken up initially with the call and then spurred into action by her words. 

“Mercy West General-" 

"On First and Central.” She nodded at her husband, gathering her courage for the next question. “Is she…" 

Some part of her refused to finish it. 

"She’s stable, but her kidneys are failing.” The nurse paused. “She’ll need long term care but she’ll be alright." 

No, she won’t.

"Get the kids,” she said, and Verdel quickly got out of bed and headed for the door. “We’ll be there soon." 

As she hung up, she did her best to muster the nerve to call her sister and brother. She could’ve asked the hospital to do it but, honestly, she’d rather it be her than some stranger. When she lifted the scroll to her ear, she desperately tried to arrange the words in her head, but- as usual- her sister seemed to click onto it immediately. 

"Is she stable?” No greeting of any sort; only one thing could prompt a call this early in the morning. 

“Yes, but she’s going into renal failure.” She paused. “At her age, it means long term care at a facility." 

"Which actually means… right.” The shuffling of fabric preceeded a quick word to her partner. “Which hospital?" 

"Same as always.” Ironic, that so many good and bad memories were contained in that one building. 

“We’ll be there soon. Want me to call Zach?" 

"I will." 

"Sis…”

She smiled, small and sad. “It’s okay, Zizi. I’ll handle it." 

A sigh came across the line. "Okay. Love ya, sis. I’ll see you there." 

"Love you, too.” Talking to her brother seemed at once easier and so much harder. 

“Hello?” He sounded like he’d been dead asleep after yet another long shift. 

“Hey, Zach." 

"Zephie?” He paused, and she could practically hear the shift in his expression. “Is she-" 

"She’s stable… for now.” Zephyr sighed. “It’ll be long term care at this point." 

"Mom will never go to a home.” It partly came down to pride but they all knew the majority of the issue stemmed from leaving the house. It held all the memories of Momma, to the point she stubbornly kept climbing the stairs rather than moving into a room on the first floor. Mom clung onto those memories with all the strength she had in her; she would never let them go. “So… this is it, huh?" 

"Yeah,” she replied in a small voice. “This is it.”

He sighed. “I’ll get Xavier. We’ll be there as soon as possible." 

"Good. See you there, little brother." 

"Yeah… same place as always?" 

"Yes." 

"Alright, we’ll head that way. Love you." 

"Love you, too.”

After hanging up, she got ready herself, trying to divorce the doctor side of her brain from the daughter side. As a medical professional, she felt compelled to try and convince Mom to get the treatment she needed… but the part of her that was raised by the woman’s own hands knew that it was asking too much. Mom had done so much just to be there these past five years, for her and her siblings and all their children, but in her eyes, they could all see her will dimming. More than once, she remarked on how strong Momma was, to effectively raise them on her own while Mom was away. Zephyr remembered those days even after all these years, hoping against hope Mom would come back so Momma wasn’t stressed, wasn’t sad. As an adult, she looked back and realized Momma didn’t handle the separation nearly as well as she pretended to, but Mom only saw her strength. In the end, they were both strong, but at their strongest when together, and life never stopped throwing punches. Eventually, a person breaks. Momma did, and now Mom… 

“Mom?” She blinked, snapped out of her thoughts by her daughter’s voice. “Dad says the car’s ready." 

Wisteria looked scared but tried putting on a brave face. Like her mother and grandma before her, she understood that trying to be strong would help others, and Zephyr nodded. 

"It’s going to be alright, Terry.” The nickname- given by Mom- had stuck, though they’d only ever heard stories about the person who bore it before. “Come along." 

"Mom…” Wisteria paused. “Is Grandmom…”

She considered lying for all of two seconds. But her parents did their level best to tell the truth, and she wouldn’t betray that now. “We’re going to say goodbye." 

Tears immediately came to her daughter’s eyes and she crossed the room to pull her into a hug. Frankly, this was one of those rare times when she couldn’t sympathize with her own children; growing up, she’d only ever known Grandpa Tai, so while she knew the pain of losing a grandparent, she only knew it so far as losing  _one_. Not two.

"You can cry, Sweetheart. It’s okay." 

"Is this why Grandmom didn’t say if she’d come to my graduation?” They’d had the conversation hardly a month ago, and Mom hadn’t been very forthright on her answer. 

“Grandmom keeps her promises, Terry.” She frowned. “But she knows there are some she can’t keep. And she misses Grandma terribly." 

Wisteria nodded solemnly. "Me too." 

"We all do.” She guided her daughter towards the door. “I know it’s difficult, but she’s fought  _so hard_  to get this far. Let’s go tell her we love her, one more time." 

Zephyr mentally frowned at her own words choice. She didn’t want to say 'last’… but there wasn’t a better way to put it, really. Yet, she avoided it anyway. As they headed towards the car, she braced herself for a very long night. 

* * *

Part XIV

Zise ushered her kids into the hospital room, her partner not far behind. Some part of her dreaded this day coming but, now that it was here, she felt a certain amount of peace. It hurt, seeing Mom- always so proud and head strong- hooked up to so many machines, looking so frail, but they could only postpone the inevitable for so long. No one outran the final moments of their lives. Yet, at the very least, those moments wouldn’t be alone for their Mom, who tried so hard to be there for them growing up. 

"What did the docs say?” She spoke quietly while Yvonne, Yvette, and Yelena went over to their Grandmom’s bedside, the woman aware enough of her surroundings to smile at them as she had for Wisteria and Walter, though it was a weak expression at best. 

“She’s going into multiple organ failure,” her sister said, the clinical tone hiding the pain in her eyes. “They were trying to put her on life support." 

"She signed the paper already?” Zephyr nodded. “And… you?" 

She didn’t envy the task set before her eldest sibling nor did she miss the stuttered breath that left her chest. 

"Yes.”

Ever since her eightieth birthday, Mom’s health had started to decline. She spoke less with each passing year, looked to the sky more even though it hurt her neck. That she’d made it these last three years… Momma would be proud of her, she thought, and of Zephie as she pulled her sister into a hug. 

“You know it’s for the best,” she said, feeling the shake in her sister’s shoulders and seeing the tears in her brother-in-law’s eyes. 

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Zephyr replied, sounding so much like their Mom then they couldn’t help but laugh. Then the door opened and Zach stepped in, Xavier just a few steps behind. 

“Sorry we’re late.” The young man immediately joined his cousins, while their brother stepped up and wrapped both of his sisters up in a hug. “This is really it, huh?” They nodded, watching as their little brother’s expression pinched together. “There’s… nothing we can do?”

“Zach… look at her,” Zise said, glancing back at the bed, where their Mom did her best to smile for her grandkids, but spoke not a word. “She’s ready." 

"Yeah… but I’m not.” Zach sniffled. 

Zephyr empathized. “None of us are… we haven’t been and we won’t be, even if she had another twenty years. We weren’t ready for Momma to go, either." 

Her heart ached for the truth in the words. They really weren’t ready, but no one ever is. At least they could take comfort in each other, like before.

Something changed in Mom's readings, prompting Taylor to step forward. 

"Okay, kids, say goodbye to Grandmom. Then, Wisteria’s going to take you all down to the gift shop.” They looked back at Zise for a moment. “I’ll be right there. Okay?" 

The five kids, ranging from young adults to teenagers, nodded, each offering a final goodbye to their Grandmom and a careful hug around thin shoulders. Just before they shuffled out of the room, their Grandmom gathered her strength and uttered the one phrase she offered freely, even when she would say nothing else. 

"Love you… too…" 

Zise’s heart ached for the scratchiness in her voice, how soft the words were, the stern voice she remembered from her childhood effectively gone.

The kids smiled and waved goodbye before the door closed and Taylor stepped forward, leaning down to kiss her cheek. 

"I’ll go keep an eye on them.” They gave her hand a little squeeze. “Thanks, Mom, for everything. I promise, I’ll keep an eye on Zizi and Zach for you.” They looked over at Verdel with a little smile. “But you’re on your own." 

They all laughed a little as Verdel stepped up, using his prosthetic to hold Mom’s hand, and it was bittersweet, because it always reminded Mom of Momma. 

"I’ll watch Zephyr, and all your grandkids. I already miss you, Mom.”

He meant well, but sometimes her brother-in-law didn’t word things the best, and as he joined Taylor in going to watch the kids, Zise could see the bit of guilt flashing in Mom’s eyes. She didn’t doubt the woman could pull herself back from the brink of death through sheer force of will, but… that wouldn’t be fair. It would be selfish, but not fair. She looked at her siblings, both caught between comforting their Mom and begging her to stay, and realized it fell to her. So she stepped up and sat down on her Mom’s bedside, took one hand in hers, and mustered her strength. She knew Mom always felt like she hadn’t been there at times and that guilt was kept at bay by Momma but never fully extinguished. 

Truthfully, there wasn’t a day that went by where Mom wasn’t there with her, a voice in the back of her mind calling for her to do the right thing, to be strong, to be resilient. And she was her Mom’s daughter… but also her Momma’s. 

“Hey, Mom,” she said with a soft smile. “Tell Momma 'hi’ for us. And that we love you both." 

Tears fell from her eyes when she saw the gratitude in her Mom’s expression. Zephyr and Zach stepped up, too, the former resting a hand on Mom’s shoulder and the latter taking her other hand. They’d waited out in the hall when Momma passed, rushing in at the alarmed look on the doctor’s face when Mom broke down, but they wouldn’t let her pass without knowing she was loved. When the doctor and nurses came in to adjust her medication, Zephyr told them.

With some quiet words, the bags were swapped out, and their Mom closed her eyes one final time, surrounded by her children. 

With her final breath, Zise came to the realization that here, with almost fully grown children of her own, only now did her childhood truly come to an end, and she pulled her siblings closer together and wept. 

* * *

 

Part XV

Zach stared down at the coffin they’d lowered down into the ground, various flowers and a few handfuls of dirt thrown in atop it. A few feet away, grass covered Momma’s own coffin, their joined headstone now complete with Mom’s dates freshly carved into the yellowed marble. His sisters and their families stood around, each processing in their own time, while Xavier stood beside him, quietly crying. Off to the side stood Aunt Blake and Aunt Weiss, the former holding her wife while the latter shook and cried, clinging to her jacket, their own children and grandchildren and even a great grandchild swaddled in blankets surrounding them. Auntie Ruby and Uncle Sun stood a bit back with their own family, having attended out of respect but still not entirely unmoved by the service, because they’d come to see Mom as a sister just as much as Momma.

Zephyr, Zise, and Zach had cried all their tears already and somehow summoned the courage to remain strong for their families, maintaining their composure throughout the service. Despite the chill of early winter, the sun shone brightly overhead, and it made his black tux a little uncomfortable.

_"You look great, Son.”_

_“Like an absolute gentleman.”_

“I do clean up pretty good, huh?” He spoke softly, recalling the response he’d given the night of his high school prom. “I love you, Mom. Momma.” A hand slipped into his, his son scrubbing at his face with his other hand. “Ready to go, buddy?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded. “Alright.” Zach turned towards his siblings. “We’re going to head down to the diner. We’ll see you there?”

It was a small, kinda cramped Mistrali place down off Seventh, but Mom and Momma loved it; no other place would do as a rallying point for their family in the wake of Mom’s passing.

After receiving a chorus of affirmative responses, he turned away and guided his son towards the car. They got about halfway through the headstones before Xavier came to a stop.

“Dad?” His face pinched together. “Why do people die?”

Zach smiled; he’d prepared for this question. “I’m going to tell you a secret, Xav. Your Grandmom told your Aunt Zephie, and your Aunt Zizi, and me. Now, I’m going to tell you.” He squeezed his son’s shoulder. “As you go through life, you’ll come to realize that love is  _never_ easy. It hasn’t been for anyone. It’ll keep you up at night- just like being angry, or sad, or anxious. You’ll lose a lot of sleep as you get older because of it. But if you do it right, the sleep you lose, you’ll get back at the end, surrounded by the people you love. That’s where Grandma is, and where Grandmom went to join her. Grandma went to see your Great Grandpa Tai, and Grandmom followed her in time.” He paused. “And, one day, I’ll go, too, just like your Aunts, and we’ll be with our parents.”

Xavier’s eyes widened. “Dad… you-”

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere yet.” He chuckled. “But I won’t be here forever.” Then he pulled his son into a hug. “That’s why I tell you every day I love you. So that, when I’m gone, you’ll know just how much love is waiting for you at the end, just like I do.” He drew back to look his son in the eyes. “Love freely, and never miss an opportunity to tell someone you care. There’s not enough love in this world to miss out on that.”

Xavier seemed to mull over his words before nodding. “That’s why Grandma always stayed up to read us bedtime stories, and Grandmom woke up early with us on Christmas morning.”

“Yup.” Zach looked back at where the rest of their family stood, congregated around the gravesite. “And now, they get  _all_  that sleep back. And they’re happy." Tears fell from his eyes. "If I’m half the parent they were, you’ll be at peace when I go. It’ll hurt, because loving someone and losing them is never easy, but if you spend every day loving and caring for those closest to you, you’ll be able to sleep easy when the time comes.”

He was nearly bowled over as Xavier launched into his gut, staggering him. “You’re the best, Dad,” he said, squeezing tight. “Grandma and Grandmom are proud, 'cause I am. I know that.”

Zach smiled and hugged his son tight. “I had good teachers.”

“I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, Xav.” He said. “Now, come on. Let’s go get lunch with everyone.” As they climbed into the car, something occurred to the young man.

“Hey, Dad, we should invite everyone over to our house and watch a movie tonight. Ya know, like we did when I was little?”

“I’m not sure if we’ll all fit,” he replied, thinking on it. “But your Aunt Zizi might have enough room.” As he drove out of the cemetery, he noticed Xavier staring out the window. “Something on your mind, champ?”

“Grandma and Grandmom are sleeping on the hill now,” he said, nodding towards a green hill just beyond the cemetery’s fence. “They look happy.”

Zach didn’t know what to make of it; sometimes, Xavier said some odd things. Mom and Momma always said 'it’s the sign of a creative mind' and he was probably just trying to construct a happy ending for his grandparents to give himself hope.

“Yeah. They are.” He nodded. “And even though we miss them so much, we can be happy, too. I mean, when was the last time you got to see all your cousins?”

* * *

 

As the car continued to pull away, and the rest of the family slowly made their way to vehicles of their own, they were watched by the very spirits of those they mourned. No words were needed as Yang- looking and feeling like she was a late twenty-something, with both her arms, though the right had a strange glowing quality to it she’d yet to figure out- laid back down beside her wife, happy and content while Winter wrapped her up in her arms and they basked beneath the rays of a sun they couldn’t feel, but warmed by their love all the same. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole thing came about because I was thinking about all the different reasons a person “loses sleep” and the somewhat morbid saying of “I’ll sleep when I’m dead”. I thought up Zach’s lines and decided that I could both explore the various reasons and ways a person loses sleep over the course of their life and what it really means to get it all back at the end.


End file.
